Cruel Intentions
by hermionegranger47393
Summary: [HGTR] But she never did die, or was she ever never regretting killing him, because Hermione Granger and Tom Riddle were in love, even though one was alive, and one was not. T for killing. Lots of angst. Reviews HIGHLY appreciated. :D
1. The End

AN: This is just an angsty, romantic story about Hermione and Tom (Jr., obviously…) which I want to have about twenty or more chapter. Read and Review please, reviews appreciated very much! All chapters are based after Groove Coverage Songs, which is the title of each and every chapter… Enjoy!

"_Please kill me, you have to… For me…"_

"_For you! You'd be dead, don't make me do this…" A fretful voice whimpered._

"_No, please, you have to… For the world… For you!"_

"_A-Avada…" She trailed off._

"_No… Keep on going, please." He begged._

"_I c-can't." She said in a trembling voice, clutching at his arm. She crawled closer to him on the floor and kissed him on his lips desperately. He broke her off, touching his dry mouth wordlessly. The serious look on his face came back and he kissed her back – showing her that although he had pushed her away he wanted to have her just as much…_

"_Kill me." She whispered._

A dry tear full of emotion slid down Hermione's cheek absently. It was all over. It was gone. But the world was still dead. The faces Hermione knew of cheerfulness, and the towns full of laughing and happily chatting people was gone. Those days were over.

"_Kill you?"_

She walked down the corridor with an empty bag swinging at her side, except for her unfinished essay, which she had ignored during class. The entire world seemed to be in black and white and extremely dark shades of gray now… It was all the end.

"_Please. I'll be with you…" Her hands grasped desperately and urgently around his dirty, wet shirt._

"_I can't kill myself."_

"_Hitler killed himself." She said to him, but no one laughed. In fact, a ringing silence followed the dreary surroundings._

"_It doesn't make sense. Just let me go."_

People were waiting for this day. And now, that they're old and gray, they dread the days to come. He was gone. The darkest wizard of all time, that everyone feared to just pronounce his name into the air – was gone. But no one, especially Hermione, was happy about this. The days were more dark and dreary than ever before.

"_I don't want to be here. I can't let you go," She murmured into his mouth, as she skimmed her lips against his. "Tell me you don't love me."_

"_Hermione, McGonagall is waiting for you in transfiguration." A familiar redhead called down the hall. Hermione barely turned her head a few inches. _

"_I'm not going."_

"_I love you."_

" 'Not going' ? But–"

"I'm sorry, Ron. Just go on. I'll see you at dinner."

"_Are you sure?" She asked in a whisper. He nodded, and she could only stifle the tears and sigh. _

"_Please don't cry…" He told her, brushing his hands over her cheek gently. "It'll make this so much harder."_

_She swallowed her tear and sorrow in her throat and nodded. "Then maybe you'll stay. I'll cry my soul out if that's what it takes."_

_Ron stood in the archway wordlessly, somehow debating with himself whether to argue back or not, and then, nodded his agreement slowly before walking off to his classes. Hermione let a tear fall down under her eye. She made no effort to wipe it away._

"_That won't help you." He told her softly, smiling slightly. She shook her head as tears started pouring down onto her face and falling onto her neck._

"_D-Don't go. P-Please. I couldn't go on without you."_

"_How do you know?"_

"He's gone," Hermione told herself firmly as a memory swam back into her mind. She turned slightly, closed her eyes as to shut out the remembrance of these stories, and sighed out her tears, which still slid out of her eyelashes. "He's gone."

But she didn't want to believe it.

"_Because this moment is killing me."_

"_Don't say that." He warned, and splayed two fingers over her mouth. He leaned forward._

"_I need you here."_

"_No you don't. You didn't need me here a few months ago. Keep on going exactly like you were living… I can't go on."_

"_Y-You'd get killed." She concluded for him with a shudder._

"_I'm not helping your life anyway… Because the end of peace is the end of life."_

"_B-But love! Love and trust! We have this, and that breaks any troubles!" She grasped at slipping strings with little triumph in her voice and much more pleading._

"_No. The end of life ends all happiness." He said firmly, his hands sliding down her jaw._

_She closed her eyes in a feeling of a losing battle. "I love you. You never told me any lies."_

"_That's not much of an argument."_

"_We'll… we'll fight through. We'll keep everything we had. We'll… we'll see each other in heaven."_

Hermione snapped open her eyes with her hand wiping away her remaining tears, briskly letting out a sigh that sounded more like a sob of a moan. She had to let this leave. She had to get over him. He was like poison.

_He waited a while before he replied._

"_How do you know I'm going to heaven?"_

_She whimpered and opened her eyes suddenly. Fear burned into them._

"_No. You may have done harm, but no, this… this is enough to bring you luck. You're a wonderful person."_

Yes. He was like poison running through her veins. She wanted to love him but she had better not touched. She wanted to hold him but her senses hadn't told her to stop. She wanted to kiss him but she wanted it too much. She wanted to taste him but his lips were venomous poison.

After all, he was dead. And she was living.

"_Many people would disagree with you on that." He retorted, ghosting his hands down her neck. His fingertips grazed her skin perfectly._

"_But I know better."_

_She had a title now. No one would call her this, of course, but the title murderer burned in her mind. It was basically burned and engraved into stone by flames. And worse, she murdered the one and only person she loved._

"_Maybe you do." He stopped his hands from their journey and looked at her thoughtfully. _

"_I do… We'll see each other when I… when I die."_

"_But I don't want that."_

"_I don't want you dead." She responded pointedly. _

"_That's different. This is for my own good."_

"_My own good? I love you, how could I do this to you?"_

If only she could stop thinking about it. About him. About life with him at her side. People looking at her like she was finally more than just brains and cleverness. To earn the heart of someone so impassive and handsome as him… It brought her into quite a different light from everyone.

_He decided not to fight this attempt. He held her jaw and chin in his hand firmly. _

"_I love you too." He mouthed. She lowered her head in sadness and gave a silent sob._

"_We will see each other again."_

_He laid there unwavering for a moment. Then finally, he spoke._

"_Yes. We will."_

"_I'll be counting the days." She whispered, looking at him._

Maybe he still loved her. But she was just wondering where he was. Was he in heaven, waiting for her to come up?

A picture of him waiting blankly at the sky, an impatient and irritated look on his face crossed her mind. His brow furrowed, him lying gently on miles of soft, fluffy mattresses, ripping a wizarding-picture of them together into pieces and throwing piece by piece into the air crossed her mind.

"_Please don't. It'll make me feel so guilty in knowing that I made you do this to yourself…"_

"_No. I'll kill myself to be with you, I want to be with you – you are my family, I love you…"_

"_Don't." He concluded, kissing her briefly but sweetly. Unfortunately, she didn't notice it due to her silent sobbing and her tightly closed eyes._

"_I c-can't do i-it."_

"_Please…" He begged, brushing their lips together again in a wet kiss again._

"_Avada–" Her voice was shaking uncontrollably. What was she about to do?_

She had killed him. And then she could kill herself.

"_K-Kedavra…" She finished in a whisper, barely enough to hear screams of pain from the side of her. She closed her eyes more tightly as more tears threatened to burst out in shrieks of cries, but soon watered up her vision. Her bottom lip trembled as the tears squeezed out and clung to her eyelashes lamely. Light was coming through the bottom crack of her eye, and she rolled over shouting into the air for forgiveness. She was yelling – screaming for help – she loved him – what had she done?_

If she could kill herself, why didn't he do the same? To save her from most of the guilt and regret…

But she never knew what had happened to him. At that moment, she lay unconscious, still yelling into darkness of trees, her eyes so tightly close they were pushing themselves into the back of her head. She was begging to be killed…

But she never did die, or was she ever never regretting killing him, because Hermione Granger and Tom Riddle were in love, even though one was alive, and one was not.

But love will never die

The End:  
My home is in motion, as darkness unfolds.  
The air overloaded, the sky stands in gold.  
But you went away, you left me to stay  
We'll see us in heaven, I'm counting the days  
At the end of time, at the end of us,  
At the end of everything we had,  
Only faith helps you, only grace can do  
Only you can take the pain  
Cause the end of peace is the end of life  
and the end of any happiness  
Only love helps you, only trust can do  
Only you can take the pain of me  
When thunder is calling I feel so alive  
The very first morning, can you see the light?  
But you closed the door, to what I adored  
We'll see us in heaven, I'm counting no more  
At the end of time, at the end of us,  
At the end of everything we had,  
Only faith helps you, only grace can do  
Only you can take the pain  
Cause the end of peace is the end of life  
and the end of any happiness  
Only love helps you, only trust can do  
Only you can take the pain of me


	2. Can't Get Over You

AN: This was never an oneshot, never will be. That would be too sad if it would. Reviews would be SOO much appreciated! Pretty please? How many T/Hr shippers are out there?

She was not acting normally. She had gotten used to him, she gotten used to being a _pair_, not only individual, bossy, Hermione Granger. He seemed to accept that since he did realize he had flaws, too, even though it was hard to admit for him.

Hermione trudged up to the common room wearily, casting glances at the people gloomily walking past her. She fell almost instantly onto her four-poster in a tangle of tears. She closed her eyes. She could have slept, but the minute the blackness of nothing filled her vision, she thought of him.

Such a lonely girl, such a lonely world, what had she done to make it like this? _I'll return to you like I promised I would._ Hermione thought carefully to herself. She could remember they're dreadful conversation the day he died like it was yesterday.

"_We will see each other again."_

"_Yes. We will." _

"I'll be counting the days." 

At this moment, Hermione let a loud cry and half of a sob emit from her mouth helplessly. She was angry, too.

Hermione had let him slip away. She could have refused to kill him. She could have been persistent and firm, but the moment had been too heartbreaking. But now that it was broken, she felt depressed and nothing but resentment.

She was angry with herself for doing it. She was proud for being so unshakable in her decision, but now that was over.

She felt hate and love right next to her.

If only he didn't love me. If only he had only told me lies… It would make it so much easier…

She had been wondering if was there, still loving her. She had been wondering if he had only told her lies and words of praise to keep her at his mercy. But what would have been the point? It had all seemed so real. There was a hurricane, a blizzard, rain falling inside her head like a never-ending storm blowing inside her mind.

The rain was falling down as hard as ever on her head. She could almost feel the droplets trickling down her skin.

Hermione remembered those days when he was here, when she was in _love_, in happy, carefree, new person, _love_. She remembered them clearly.

And that's why she couldn't get over him.

He had left her. He had begged her to kill him, for him to be alone, because he always was independent. What would he want with a muggleborn, shy, bossy witch to be by his side who was fighting the evil and him doing the opposite.

Hermione had no more reason to live; she needed him by her side. He made her confident, he made her happy, he made her stronger, and more _ready_. Besides, she had never felt true love, and to love someone as impassive and emotionless as him was quite an achievement. How had she done it?

Surrounded by pain, this was her life. She had fallen for the worst person she could have chosen, which put her on the bad side for life. She called herself clever, yet she fell in trap made by herself to fall in love with the most malevolent, dark, and feared wizard out there, and now she had paid for it.

But Hermione remembered the line, she had used for years in her head: _The greatest thing you'll ever learn is just to love, and be loved in return._

No, it wasn't. She had probably been feeling guilty every time she had kissed him, fallen over and over in love with him, and melted into his arms.

_I wish he would never have been born._ Hermione wished desperately in her mind.

Maybe some dinner. Some late dinner.

She couldn't get over it. Not when the Slytherin banner soared over one of the houses and she felt a pang of guilt and regret, and when the silver snake billowing on the fabric seemed to hiss over at the Gryffindor table.

"_I love you_." She whispered, sending a shiver of cold up her spine. Couldn't she just live her life?

Not without him by here side, not anymore.

_It was a time of cheerfulness. All the Death Eaters were either dead or in Azkaban. The world was gleeful, because as far as everyone knew, the Dark Lord was about to be caught. He was sighted in the mountains just one week ago, and the Aurors seemed to be hot on his trail. Even the Daily Prophet had kept quiet about cruel gossip, and the front pages filled with news about 'Evil is Coming to an End' and such other titles for reassuring messages about finding and killing You-Know-You at last, since he had weakened greatly due to his travels._

_It was hard to believe, that this was less than three months ago from this dreary existence wizards and witches live in now._

Can't Get Over You

By: Groove Coverage

There's a never-ending storm blowing through the night

I feel love, I feel hate, right by my side

Feels like rain falling down, don't know what to do,

I remember those days, can't get over you

You decided to leave, told me nothing but lies

Got no reason to live, I need you by my side

There are so many things you didn't come up to

I'm surrounded by pain, can't get over you

So much time passing by, since you went away

I felt sun, touched the spring, and saw autumns gray.

Tears like rain falling down, don't know what to do

I remember those days, can't get over you.

So I'm still searching for a certain place to hide,

I feel love, I feel hate, there's no end in sight.

Most of all I can't wait, to come back to you

I'm surrounded by pain, can't get over you


	3. Remember

_AN: Oh, reviews are SOO much fun to get! **NicciRahl, **thank you for reviewing, really, you are like the only one who has. Tom/Hermione isn't too popular…I've never written anything so angsty and sad before. I want the ending not really to be too happy. Suggestions appreciated in the middle in the story! Please keep reviewing! **Kwidditch**, I'm really sorry to hear about your husband, I'm glad this story can relate to this. Keep reading, please! **NotAFlame**, I'm glad your review isn't a flame (because anonymous reviews are usually flames, argh!) and thank you very much, really. Review for a smile guaranteed! Sorry this took so long. My internet is acting haywire._

Pain was rising inside Hermione slowly, a hard, cold feeling in her entire head; throbbing madly; causing the idea to not properly think. Hermione's lip trembled. She was practically dying to herself. She was trying to hard… It was too much loneliness… Some sort of storm – a never-ending storm since she could not help anything… It was over. Yet she still remembered everything – which Hermione could both despise and adore at times.

She could still remember what he said at certain times. She could remember the hardships, the moments of breaking-down in tears, and the moments where she could not help it anymore. She could still remember his cold and impassive voice – calling her name in the depths of the dark night. She could still see the emotion of anger, hate, greed, and sometimes _love_, trickling helplessly from his eyes into her face and heart… She had dreamed that he could turn the world around – perhaps with her – it could have been in his hands.

She had thought in the beginning that it wasn't love, and just some greedy and clever trick of his – but he had put her in a trance – she couldn't let go – she was falling for him, but she knew now – it was only love. And now it was only in her dreams that he would still only love her; for what she did to him hurt her – to think if he hated her for it. She had questioned everything. She wished she could tell herself that it wasn't too late, but it was. It was true – she had never been a failure in seeing when something was over or still going for chances – but it was over even though it was tearing her apart that she was admitting it to herself. She had already shed a million tears.

Hermione sighed to herself, a tear trickling down her face helplessly. She let her eyes droop, and they closed to block out the endless tears soon. Such a lonely world this was. Who was there to talk to?

She sat down at the Gryffindor table, sliding into the wooden benches messily. She slowly and pitifully filled her plate with a small helping of eggs. She didn't want to eat. Not now. Not anymore.

_Hermione was in Charms, Professor Flitwick jumping off his pile of books carefully, bobbing around the classroom as his short figure peered over the desks perfectly to peek at the essay he had handed out. Hermione drew her quill down the paper in a line, scanning the questions for incorrect answers. She frowned when the quill fell off the paper and landed on the desk with a blotch of ink staining the wood. _

"_Quills down, please!" A squeaky voice said cheerfully, bouncing enthusiastically around the students to snatch up the papers. _

_Hermione waited until the mob of students pouring out of the oak doors ceased, and then casually caught up with her friends. _

"_What class do you have next?" Ron asked her curiously, peering into her bag for a smudgy schedule._

"_Potions," She answered immediately. "But that's after lunch. Where are you headed to?"_

"_We both have Herbology," Ron said bitterly, eyeing his schedule with a furrowed brow. Harry stopped next to him. _

"_We'll see you at lunch, 'Mione!" They both called after her, changing directions at a hallway fork. She had free time. What could she do before lunch? She was caught up in reading._

"_Well, I'll just go ahead to a late breakfast."_ _She said aloud, murmuring into the empty hallway. Every student was in classes, or finishing breakfast, or in their common rooms doing whatever the other houses were doing. She had nothing to do to. _

_She had read 'Hogwarts a History' so many times, she could recite her favorite chapter about enchanted ceilings in her head. She had checked her homework so many times the closely furled up parchment of essay work now lay flat. She had read her study books so many times that if an obstacle of Charms, Herbology, Potions, Defense Against The Dark Arts, or Ancient Runes came up in the hallway right now she could defend herself wandless. She had practiced the Vanishing Charm so much that one of Gryffindor Common Room burgundy and squashy arm chairs was now permanently invisible due to overuse of the Vanishing Charm. _

_And now she was here. In the hallway, wandering aimlessly to no real destination, almost forlorn. She stopped._

_A metal door had appeared suddenly prickling into real surface, silver and chrome washing over the wall. The door handle moved downward, along with the screws on the door, which all robot-like nails turned on the door. The door opened, and someone ducked under the large tapestry blocking the door. A swish of a yellow and black cloak sent her looking at the familiar face of a Hufflepuff boy, Zacharias Smith . She peered around the corner and scrambled down the marble staircase in time to see someone scrambling through a portrait hole with a stone badger clawing at the air – sitting on a similar stone-like pedestal standing next to the slammed shut door of the Hufflepuff entrance. Hermione swung around the wall again and climbed up the steps, walking past the stone walls again. She stopped._

_Slowly turning to face the tapestry, the ugly tapestry that made Hermione usually pass it unnoticed when she walked along the halls, and ducked under the fabric. The metal door had gone. She pressed her fingertips delicately against the wall, but nothing but solid wall was there. She frowned._

_And then Hermione remembered. The Room of Requirement was this room. Maybe she could open it to see what she wanted at the moment. One quick five-minute detour was allowed, just to see what to do in this boring time right now when a ringing silence bounced off the walls. She slid her cloak securely around her shoulders, sighed, and closed her eyes._

Hermione heard knives clank together, the silverware scratching on the plates next to her. She looked up.

Many people looked shocked at her bloodshot and murderous looking eyes. Several people scooted down, keeping their eyes fixed on their plates determinedly. Hermione sighed, looking at the fidgety hands in her lap. She shot the tables another glance, and headed noiselessly out of the Great Hall, even though she had felt that everyone's eyes had been on her.

_What did she want? Why did she need the Room of Requirement? What was that she desperately needed for her to slip off, duck under the tapestry, and ignore her regular schedule? Her eyes opened._

_She sighed again, eyeing the thin wall next to her. She closed her eyes again slowly, shifting on her feet. She focused._

_More than a thousand thoughts went into her head, which she had expected. Some of the images in her mind were focused around things that she didn't even want. Shutting down her mind, she thought in her mind what she wanted._

_Hermione had not even finished sorting through the pictures in her mind, when she heard the dry sound of turning screws. Her eyes opened at once, and she was facing a large, metal, and almost threatening door, which stood massively before her. She turned the rusty doorknob._

She wondered desperately about what the sudden drop of forks and knives had been about. Was it just her, or did every sound in the Great Hall sort of end when she moved swiftly out of it, swinging her hand around the, marble pole in the middle of the archway. She was not really a 'looker', who turned all heads and was gaped at with hanging open mouths. She was fairly pretty, well-kept curly brown hair, warm brown eyes, and a thin figure. Maybe it was the 'muggleborn' part that turned off most of the school. Maybe it was who she hung out with. But either way, she wasn't someone important, with an important history or anything related, especially to the Slytherins.

Hermione felt another tear clinging desperately to her lashes, and she blinked it away. Her vision was blurred with a watery look, and she held a hand over her eyes, and bowed her head as she walked. She could never talk about the '_Slytherins_' with a negative air, or even look at their jade-green cloaks and jackets again. It brought back too many memories for Hermione.

_The door eased open slowly. _

She had cried so many times this year. About her family, about her looks, about her grades, about her friends, about what people thought about her, about people (mostly Malfoy) who teased her muggle background. It was again, another Slytherin. But he was different. Or he had _changed_. She had only really seen the _real_ Voldemort, not the young, handsome, polite, yet impassive and threatening, _Tom Riddle_, before three months ago. And already, he was dead.

It _had not_ been a short time, Hermione told herself firmly. He had millions of months to kill and murder and torture people, learn the Dark Arts, and go to Hogwarts, leave the orphanage, become an orphan… The speech inside her head to try to convince herself to see the faults of Voldemort, turned sideways, and a watery sob interrupted the rest. The truth was, no matter how horrible he was, no matter how many people he had killed, she felt sorry for him. Especially now, because now, he was gone.

Even though they're time together was about ninety days or so, she should be able to be over him by now. He was probably the most insensitive, emotionless, and cruel wizard she was ever with, and yet, he was the only one she ever loved.

It wasn't a year, it hadn't been a decade, it hadn't even been half a year, yet she was still crying about it.

_It was creaking open with the sound of rusty metal rubbing together with new, and clean stone._

She was in love with someone dead. Someone dead, someone dead, someone dead.

_Hermione's eyes were still shut tight. The door brushed her foot before rigidly shaking forward._

And if he was ever even still out there – in heaven, out of the world, or still thinking, she wondered hopefully that perhaps he would be thinking of her. And that he was in love with someone alive and he was dead. He was dead, he was dead, he was dead.

_The door came to a stop._

And maybe he was in love with someone alive. Someone alive, and he _was_ dead.

_Hermione eyes pried themselves open._

Hermione froze. A sudden _bling_ went into her head; what if he was a _ghost_?

_A step forward. Everything was black so far. She blinked her eyes into focus, rubbing them madly._

Running noisily past the Great Hall, heads turning once again as the sound of her running footsteps echoed around the hallways. A wall was ahead, and her feet came to a unbalanced stop, and before she could stop, her face slid through an icy, cold, thing, that certainly wasn't solid.

"Oh!" She shrieked, her foot slipping on the marble. She landed on the floor, her bottom aching, a gasp emitting from her mouth as she heard the sound of someone swiftly moving.

"Excuse me?" A tinny, airy voice asked above Hermione. She glowered above her, standing up and brushing dust off her front. The vision of the Grey Lady, a misty ghost, stood hovering over the ground, offering a translucent hand out to Hermione. She declined it politely, anger gritting through her teeth.

"Sorry," She said in a breathy voice, retracting her hand and smiling feebly at Hermione. "Did you get hurt?" She asked in a casual voice.

Her face was not at all curious or worried for the student that had just fallen flat on her bottom, which was Hermione's first observation. In fact, the question sounded rehearsed and certainly not something that the ghost had used for a first time.

"No," Hermione mumbled. Glaring at the ghost, her face tried to transition into a painful smile. "Just out of curiosity, what was the thing you hadn't been able to do before you died? You know, why you're a ghost and everything?"

The Grey Lady sighed, the normal and thoughtful expression on her face turning impatient. She swayed in midair. Obviously she had answered this question many times before.

"You skidded your knee." She said instead, pointing to a red mark on her knee, which was oozing out blood, seeping into Hermione's socks. She hastily bent over and cleaned it up with her wand.

"Yeah." She said grumpily, waiting patiently for an answer from the ghost, who seemed to have no intention of answering anytime soon.

"People only become ghosts if they have missed something from their past they haven't completed yet." She suddenly said, as Hermione turned to leave.

Hermione stopped, turning slightly.

Is there anything Tom Riddle would have regretted or not done yet?

_It was almost as light had suddenly flickered on, because deep in concentration, sat a man at a small table. A book lay in his hands – and it seemed like a library of dark, musty books that surrounded him. He was surely pouring over it, his dark, black eyes moving sharply among the pages. The pale surrounding these mysteriously shadowy eyes was a complexion so pale it was almost white. _

_Realizing in a terrible amount of hope, hoping this was not true – that it couldn't be – Hermione let out a gasp, and his sharp head turned to hers._

Hermione let out one loud sob, turning her face over in her hands, which were turning very wet – a pool of nothingness – sadness and regret sitting in palms in nothing more than salty, liquid form.

_Pain is rising, deep inside,_

_I've been dying; I've been trying..._

_Call my name in lonely nights_

_and where the love goes is where the wind blows._

_I can remember all the things that you said,_

_will I remember can I remember?_

_I see emotion in your eyes,_

_will I remember can I remember?_

_Strophe II:_

_Loneliness is killing me..._

_I've been dying; I've been trying..._

_Live your life and let mine be,_

'_cause where the love goes is where the wind blows._

_I can remember all the things that you said,_

_will I remember, can I remember?_

_I see the motion in your soul,_

_will I remember, can I remember?_

_Refrain:_

_If I was just a sailor could I sail without a boat?_

_If I ever had a harbor I would never loose my hope..._

_Will you turn my inspiration will you turn the world with me?_

_If I ever had a harbor I would be the deepest sea!_

AN: OMG, I'm so sorry this took so long! Stupid internet and stupid French, fat, plumber guy trying to fix it! Argh, this is annoying. Anyway… Besides my troubles, let's listen to Hermione mope and complain, hmm? Well, thank you for reading, if you did. :D Reviews HIGHLY appreciated!


	4. Lullaby for Love

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter… Blah, blih, blach… You know the drill.

_AN: Oh, I just LOVE reviews! People like you make my day! Although some of you are very odd, newcomers from other countries, both, can't spell very well, can't read very well, both, or just are regulars in reviewing. Whether you write 'the' like 'ze' or just review every so often – sob- I love you guys! T/Hr forever! **Heatherness2134**, newcomer, eh? The spelling will come soon enough. Sorry – can't shorten the chapters, you're not the only reviewer, sorry. Keep on writing. Can you read this properly? Can you understand this? **NicciRahl**, oh, people like you keep me writing. You don't even complain at very ssllooowww updates! You are definitely the perfect reviewer, recommended! Oh, turning up on a favorites list – that would be a first. Never have had much luck with reviews. Keep reviewing please – you're about the only sane one who is! I'm afraid that's true. Meh. **MiKaYGiRl**, God, your name is hard to get correct. Funny username, how on earth did you come up with it? Thanks for the review, the second only sane one there is, look at miss Heatherness2134, with her 'I'm fully France' – yeah, right – IT'S FRENCH! Oh, the hopelessly deluded morons who castrophise my day. She's writing like Fleur Delacore and swears she came from France a week ago. **Sarcastic Capricorn**, where are your reviews? I'm acknowledging your existence in my REVIEWER file, you ungrateful dunderhead! Sorry. Never had a flame for this story yet, eh? First in a first. You should see what miss Fleur Delacore has written on her reviews. Miss, I'm fully France with her misspellings and her big, fat, lies. I hope she reads this and shoves off. **Zonkos**, that was a wonderful review. So, are you the official owner of Zonkos Joke Shop, or are you just skimming websites under a forgery of names, hmm? It's great to see my stories – er, selling albums. Anyway, thanks everybody, keep reviewing. I shouldn't gossip about my reviewers – especially on the same page everyone else's is on… Hmm. By the way, the song 'Rinse' really fit in this story too. _

Everything she was recalling silently in her head, everything she was reminiscing – was all a broken part of her soul being squeezed so tightly with nothing – nothing ripping it apart – since there was noting left inside of it.

She might as well have been kissed by a dementor.

All her memories were creating a song. A strong, emotion-full song, full of plenty of courage and bravery and hope and tears and – _love._ It was about love. She was creating a heartbreaking and miserable lullaby, a lullaby for love – waiting for love to come back, calling out in pitches of screams for the one and only one the Lullaby of Love was meant for.

_Out of the bitterness of Herbology and being stuck here in this situation, being monitored under the black eyes, gleaming red with greed every so often, she would choose the bitterness of Herbology. _

If only she would have hope. One month ago, if someone would have told her everything would be fine, she'd have a feeble belief amongst their evidence. But now – oh, she knew there was no hope left.

_She was waiting for a word. Some word to simply escape his lips and break the tension of nothingness and black silence. Hermione would have said something herself, but the ringing silence filled her ears and sort of blurred her vision immensely. While she was paralyzed to the spot, her insides squirming uncomfortably and telling her to run now – she was waiting. He seemed to have no care or uncomfortableness to the spoken words of nothing – and was actually enjoying the company of two to join him. A slight grin formed on his face as he his pale face narrowed at hers, twitching his eyes along her. His brow furrowed as he inspected her critically looked at her, and Hermione didn't dare to even flinch the slightest. _

"_What do you want?" He finally asked flatly, crossing his arms defiantly – the finality and firmness in his voice showed that he was waiting for an answer, and only an answer. Hermione didn't argue as his face was shining into a white view as he stepped into a mirror of light. His fingertips snapped and the door closed on sudden command. She moistened her lips, only to find that her tongue was exceptionally dry._

It was better to be on the good side, then the nothingness of leftovers of the dark side.

But she was no longer a faithful supporter of the light, fighting, strong, cheery side; she had betrayed them – they all knew and didn't respect her as much. None of the teachers called on her trembling hand that was always waving frantically in the air, and tried to ignore her in the coldest of ways. They had been all astonished – the teachers and the students, that smart, clever, and bossy Hermione Granger fell in love with Lord Voldemort and non-mercifully murdered him in the end. But nobody knew the real story, and Hermione was the victim of vicious rumors for some time. But the news didn't travel far. The petrified whispers of exchanging gossip only spread from friends to closest friends.

Luckily Harry was still in the hospital wing from his last encounter with Voldemort, and wasn't yet awake to hear the story. Ron, however, trying to basically ignore Hermione's friendship as well, had no intention of comforting her in the rough times, standing up for her, telling off the people who whispering eagerly about her, or not telling Harry all the rumors and what he thought that the true story.

Harry wouldn't be there at her side. He wouldn't want to defend Hermione – or help her with the vicious amount of rumors that attacked the halls everyday. He might have experience, but the only reason he ever did was because of the man Hermione still loved to this day. And sadly enough, the first thing he would basically hear when his eyes would open in the hospital wing would be the barking orders of Madam Pomfrey or the full story of what had happened that week he missed from anybody to imagine from. Hermione could only hope that Ron was the one to tell him – other people exchanged such twisted versions that she couldn't help but scowl after their conversations.

But she had had it with the evil eyes, the dark glares, and the ignorance or Hermione Granger.

He had put her through this pain. Hermione tried to think – but no matter how hard she tried to convince herself that Tom Riddle was the reasons that she was no longer the teachers' pet or the Headmistresses favorite, or had any friends anymore – she ended up in a heap of tears or feeling strong sorrow for the most greedy, independent, emotionless, and wicked wizard ever known to be alive.

"I-I d-didn't know–" Riddle eyed her stutters with extreme loathing. "You're a muggleborn, aren't you?" He hissed darkly, advancing on her – so his glimmering face turned gray out of the light. "That's not the point." Hermione said squarely, drawing herself up proudly. "It is to me," He spat quietly, with such venom dripping on his lips that Hermione almost gasped. His brown furrowed lower. "Now. I want you. To leave." He said silently, but so forcefully in a tone of darkness, that Hermione didn't need telling twice. She whipped around, the hair slapping her back as she tug on the door harshly. She might as well drop off early in classes. Slumping over to the portrait hole, she heard the Fat Lady gasp as Hermione slammed her back against the portrait with a sigh. The lock clicked close. "Wait." He commanded silently, grabbing her arm. This time, Hermione did gasp, as marble-white hands, cold as ice, clutched her arm in a small amount of pain. Her arm burned with a small amount of sizzling heat. 

She should be mad at him for taking such gluttonous, ravenous, greedy, advantage over her to get to Harry – and for her to give in. She couldn't even remember his deep charm of handsomeness, always knowing the right time to smile mischievously, the dark glower he used to charge off his 'friends' when he was annoyed, and the times when true smiles of his could silence a room in a breath.

_She didn't dare to turn around. He pushed her shoulder so he faced her – a deep furrow of questions in his brow, curiously eyeing her._

"_You know Harry Potter, don't you?"_

Nothing could change Hermione's mind about him – he was kind, caring, different, and new to Hermione – while many people would disagree with her.

_Hermione's stomach lurched uncomfortably._

Usually she would mind being used.

"_H-Harry Potter?" _

He had the most _amazing_ jinxes in his mind all the time – but how did he break her? He probably Confunded her – or… or Legilimency – Veritaserum, perhaps… she reasoned. But on Earth had he slipped her some potions? Or used Legilimency on her without her noticing? She was firm in keeping her ground – stubborn, really, in keeping secrets when someone threatened her for the information to be spilled.

"_Yes, that's right," He said, grabbing tight, firm hold of her shoulders and shaking her slightly. When she didn't answer in terror, he responded angrily, his lip twitching. "Tell me what you know!" He said so forcefully Hermione shivered slightly in her gasp, and was released from his grip. She staggered back._

"_I-I know n-nothing."_

He was a wonderful wizard, but she was a great witch, and could not be fooled easily. They were very alike in many ways – stubborn, unbreakable, immovable in words, standing grounds, smart, clever, alert, attractive… Their differences weighed out the similarities into equal amounts. But he was firm and tense – and forceful. He could squeeze anything out of anybody, and Hermione was rather sensitive. How on earth had she convinced and persuaded Tom Riddle to change into the Light World, unlike Hermione turning Dark. All in all, they were different – anyone looking at the figure of Hermione and Tom side by side would first see the pile of differences then notice the similarities, besides, they were alike by the very small but delicate traits that you had to dig out of Tom Riddle to see. He was quite confidential.

_He eyed her with loathing._

"_Liar. LIAR!" He accused strongly, and Hermione gasped, inching backwards. "Tell me now," He said with sturdy force, his hands balled into fists, his knuckles white. Hermione shook – her mouth opened halfway to alibi her way out of this – her hand tried to sneak behind her and grab the door. "Where is Harry Potter? I'm not playing games, here, Mudblood."_

_Hermione's lips tightened – the blood was rushing out of her head at amazing speed – if only she could sit down. She was becoming so dizzy she was simply hoping that all of this was just a hallucination._

"_Here." She suddenly said numbly, and a stream of satisfaction spread through his face, and grinned menacingly. He let go of her arm, blood sprang into her wrist and Hermione just then realized that he had been clutching her wrists. _

He was simply malicious.

_He turned around and Hermione faced his back. With a gulp, she saw his face turning to hers, light puzzlement glinting in his face. His eyes blinked._

"_I think it is not wise for you to be rumoring me around the castle," He announced suddenly, and Hermione turned rigid – he had practically read her mind. He had brought out his wand. "But I believe that I taking your word for this would be the most stupid thing to attempt – so instead–"_

_Hermione's eyelids fluttered dangerously as she swayed on the spot – her mouth fell open, hanging, and she tried to moan in the feeling of suffocating – the air was out of her mouth; dry and rough. She was falling; her arms limp, flailing to stop the fall. She brain seemed to shut off; the last she saw was a blurry smile upon his face as the dark room seemed to swirl out of view as she hit the floor and her eyes closed at last. Her mouth snapped close as her body turned cold and dead._

This lullaby in her head was the most depressing song she could have ever heard. If only it would end – but this was for him – a way of giving sorrow and a plea for forgiveness. It rang through her head as she passed the familiar black stones – the tapestry – and the metal door with churning nails. The shrill sound of rust on metal suddenly was the only sound in her head, beating on her ears, and Hermione couldn't help but glimpse at the dark wall with a deep shadow cast around it.

_I see the soul in my eyes, _

_Once it was beauty, but now it's blind, _

_All that remains is the pain inside, _

_Dark memories of times that were light, _

_They told me time is a healer, _

_Healing hearts still bleed. _

_But it can put a smile on my face, _

_And I don't want to wait. _

_This is my lullaby for love, _

_And I hope it will never wake up, _

_This is my last goodnight kiss, _

_To save me always from my tears. _

_My way of life changed because of you, _

_I hope you feel that my smile isn't true, _

_They told me time is a healer, _

_Healing hearts still bleed. _

_But there's not one glimmer of hope, _

_And so I sing my song. _

_This is my lullaby for love, _

_And I hope it will never wake up, _

_This is my last goodnight kiss, _

_To save me always from my tears, from my tears. _

_This is my lullaby for love, _

_And I hope it will never wake up, _

_This is my last goodnight kiss, _

_To save me always from my tears, _

_This is my last goodnight kiss, _

_To save me always from my tears _

AN: So, that's another chapter… Now the fun starts.


	5. Home

**Disclaimer**: Oh, how many times must I write that I do not own any particle or ventricle of Harry Potter? The people who ask you to do so must want to see you cry – how many times I write 'I do not own any books' a day can be quite depressing.

_AN: Oh, bloody, the Internet is going berserk. Anyway…Thank you, humble and devoted reviewers. After some reviews saying people didn't mind a long break in between chapter updates, I had the sudden urge to update immediately – and – oh, look where that went! Literally a month has gone by and I'm been writing multiple beginnings on multiple sheets of paper and computers. And now, I'm finally writing. Phew. _

Hermione couldn't help but laugh. A bitter, cold, and empty emotionless laugh escaped her; it even startled herself.

_Eyes closed, she could only hear echoes in her ears. She screwed her face up in a scowl. She squirmed in her seat. Thumps and laughter were heard from a far… far away place. Her eyebrows furrowed as she squirmed on her seat – leather. Where was she? She was missing Herbology! She wanted to be home._

_Hermione made a strong movement to get up – she firmly grasped the headboard of the coach she was lying on and wrenched open her eyes. But her arms felt like useless and weak rubber. _

"_Stop." Said a cold voice, and Hermione jumped in her seat. _

She clambered into the portrait hole and clutched at the crumpled up tissue in her pocket; she was tearing up so much these days she had constantly started stuffing napkins in her pockets during lunch and dinner times. She wished she wouldn't have to.

"Hermione!"

Hermione spun around to face a Ron, breathlessly grabbing his side and limping toward the portrait hole that hadn't shut closed yet. She pushed it further open and held out a hand for Ron.

"You – missed – Herbology – and – Charms!" He said in-between gasps of breaths.

"Oh no, not Charms!" Hermione squealed, rushing past Ron leaving the portrait hole swinging on the spot.

"But – wait!" He called after her.

"No, Ron – I have to go apologize to Professor Flitwick!" She said, waving a careless hand behind her, running past the tapestry and the dungeon stairs.

_She gasped, but her voice got caught in her throat. Her legs fell limply off the couch and she viewed a handsome boy wearing ink-black robes and fastening a clasp over a Head Boy badge and the insignia of a green serpent, standing on the edge of a metal, spiral staircase. She opened her mouth._

"_Stop." He said again, almost hungrily – a menacing cold evident in his eyes. Hermione felt a hot surge of anger as she recognized the boy._

"_W-Who are you?" She tried to bark ferociously._

_He grinned satisfyingly. "I think you know who I am." He finished coldly, making his way swiftly done the rest of the steps. Cold thumps of echoes rang in the air. _

_Slytherin banners of mostly mossy forest green and toothy (and strangely alive looking) serpents flashing their fangs threateningly were plastered on it; waving and billowing around. Besides the nonplussed Gryffindor and the Slytherin, they were alone in the common room Hermione reasoned was certainly _not_ the Gryffindors'. She made a move to get up, and to stride away; she had no intention of staying here. The Gryffindor common shouldn't be too far away – Ron and Harry would be waiting and possibly worried._

"_They won't be there." He said firmly, blocking the portrait hole. Hermione gasped in her head – that was the 2nd time he had almost read her mind. _

"_Er–"_

"_Actually, I think I'd much rather like you here than them over – well, someplace else." He said smirking._

_Hermione stared at him with half confusion and befuddlement, and half anger._

"_What is going on?" Hermione said furiously, stomping over to where he was diligently standing._

_He laughed softly. She twitched at the hollow sound. "You really don't know?"_

_Hermione scowled darkly. How dare he question her cleverness? She had never _not_ been able to answer a question before! He doubted her wisdom!_

_She made a sudden and impulsive movement forward, as if to hit him, but the better of it and stepped tentatively backwards. He raised an eyebrow._

"_Hold your tongue while you have it." He warned. Hermione's eyes widened. He had _ordered_ her what to do? Before she could stop herself, her hand went swiftly over his pale face, a sickening CLAP sound in the room. Even though his cheek was turning red rapidly, his face remained forced calm._

"_You – You imbecile of a wizard!" She shrieked angrily. _

She burst through the door of Flitwick's classroom, the last of her tears flying off her face. Professor Flitwick, however, had been busily bending over a box of pillows and piling fluffy pink ones back into the box.

"Oh – um, Professor Flitwick?"

He turned around with a slight squeak of surprise.

"Oh, Miss Granger!" He squealed, waddling over to her. "I quite missed your usual excellence in class today. Indisposed ill, I suppose?"

"No, I'm sorry, Professor – I lost track of time. I'll come during dinner to make up my lesson."

"Oh, not necessary! I've seen you perform a _perfect_ Stunning spell before! Some other students were having severe problems."

Ron walked into the room suddenly, face red with exhaustion.

"Oh my – Mr. Weasley! So kind of you to join our conversation!"

"Sorry," He mumbled to Flitwick sending a loathing look to Hermione. "But I need to _'escort Miss Granger to Potions if I do not want to lose any more points from Gryffindor.'_" Ron repeated darkly, jerking Hermione toward the door. "Snape's (AN: Yes I have read HBP but I do believe this is canon to include Snape in a potions class) having the time of his life taking away fifty points from Gryffindor due to your continued lateness. What is the matter with you lately?"

"Nothing."

_His face turned beet red, his expression suddenly livid. He grabbed his wand before Hermione even could run._

"_Locomotor Mortis!" He screamed, but Hermione had ducked just in time to avoid a thick jet of yellow light. He watched in frustration as the spell sizzled on the wall. He turned to her, eyes flaming._

_She stuttered into multiple blinks as he advanced on her._

"_Do not – call me – names!" He roared, hovering above her reddening figure. _

"_You cannot order _me_ what to do!" She shrieked back, ready to talk on, but he had raised his wand and performed a silencing spell._

"_Now. Keep your mouth shut if you want to remain unharmed." He sat down on one of the couches and gestured for her to take a seat on the coach opposite of his. The silencing charm was taken away. He grinned satisfyingly. "Well then." He leaned forward hungrily. "Tell me everything about Harry Potter."_

_Hermione looked at him quizzically, although she tried to hide it with a slight abast-looking expression of strength. He laughed hollowly at her discomfort. Her mouth opened and closed as he leaned back, eyebrows raised. How could she get out of this?_

"Well, come on already," Ron said, ushering her to the dungeon door. "The Slytherins have been finding this highly amusing."

"Have they, really?" Hermione mocked sarcastically, pushing the door open.

"_T-That's absurd."_

_His expression turned raw and cold as a scowl formed on his face. He stood up – being about two inches taller than her. She blinked. Would he sense her dishonestly or fake confusion? He seemed to read her mind – but no, that was too advanced to be learning in 7th year! Or was this 7th year? Either way, she was never good at making alibis, or making lies sound convincing – and he seemed to see right through her._

"_I knew mudbloods were disgusting – but I never knew they were so lowly clever and untruthful," he smirked. "But I should have known." Hermione stomped up into a standing position so they were almost nose-to-nose. _

"_Just because muggle-born is my 'title' to you purebloods, that is nothing under my descriptions that you Slytherins judge after!"_

_He grinned. "Have a power, eh? That' s fine. I've dealt with weak uses of power before."_

"_Power is not to be used the way you Slytherins use it – it's best used by noble Gryffindors who will have courage that you will never possess!"_

"_Don't worry. I don't need noble power to become someone people will cower for after my work is done."_

_Hermione blinked._

"_I know who are."_

"_Yes, I know that too. From now on – you are my… secretary on Harry Potter. I have time. I have power. Tell me everything."_

"_No!"_

"_Do not refuse to me, you filthy muck of dirt! I am Lord Voldemort – and as far as I'm concerned, you are a weakling that should be bowing at my presence!"_

"_W-What?"_


	6. Force of Nature

Disclaimer: I don't own anything but the plot… Shouldn't you guys _know_ this by now?

_Author's Note: Anyway, reviewers, a few things will change in this story after today. First of all, sorry for the wait. I want to remind myself never to write my chapter on another computer where I couldn't reach it. I thought so many times of just rewriting it but wanted to go with the one I had somewhere else! Okay, I realized that if you type in 'The End' in the search bar, they tell you that words under three letters are unacceptable. Since the title is pretty lame and when I made it up I just chose it because I didn't know what else to choose… so, I'm thinking of changing this title to 'Cruel Intentions'. I had a dream where I was constantly muttering these words to a ghost and – I'm stopping now. Anyway, that might change, and secondly, I might be having my author's note at the end of the chapter. Lastly, I'm sorry for no author's note or song lyrics along with it, but unless I really like the song I won't include lyrics. Feedback, please! My favorite reviewers are no longer reviewing!_

It had been a long day, where Hermione was able to happily slump up to the girls' dormitory with the feeling that the day was over. But dreams haunted her nights and the next day would be just as terrible as the one she lived just now; a day where she couldn't control her tears at all and flashes of Tom kept flickering in her mind. She wanted to forget him.

_She had been cowering uncontrollably at the moment, about fall over in her bent position. _

_His cloak almost billowing in pride, Hermione drew herself shakily up with as much confidence she could muster and confronted his eyes stonily._

"_You are no more of a 'Lord' than Albus Dumbledore a rash wizard," She tried to announce calmly. "I am not under the control of some boy pretending to be Lord Voldemort. Good day." Hermione finished briskly, as though he had only been a client for an audition and she was dismissing him. Brushing him roughly aside, she followed her steps to the portrait hole exit._

"_Fine. But if you leave now, you will have no place to go. Some stranger with only a feeble story of being knocked out only by sheer Legimency. Any Professor Dipper will only be amused by your highly unbelievable tale."_

_She stared at him with a blank gaze. Hermione hated the way he smirked, raised his eyebrow, or mocked her incoherent actions. But mostly, she hated the way he made her feel low, stupid, and hollow, some student who wandered aimlessly into his clutches. Scowling, she snatched up her fallen cloak and hurried away again. He followed her naturally, keeping an unnerved expression plastered on his face._

"_I'm _telling you_, nobody is waiting for you. You'll make a fool of yourself more than you already have." He said firmly, staring fixedly at her aggravated face._

She could not make herself see the horrible, the bad, the lying, greedy, simply dark person inside of him that was itching to fully reveal itself when they first met months ago. She knew that he was different, and therefore could not bring herself to see him in a black light.

Hermione blew out the candle on her bedside table and tried to block out the noises from downstairs – they had won the match against Slytherin, and frankly, Hermione wasn't feeling so cheery because of a Quidditch game.

"_Who do you think you are to say who I am or what I'm doing?" Hermione sneered coldly._

"_Well, actually, I am the _only_ one who knows what you are doing or will be doing." He finished smoothly, crossing his arms satisfyingly._

"_Think that highly of yourself?" Hermione scoffed scornfully._

"_Why, dear muggleborn, it has nothing to do with self confidence. It has to do with the amount of knowledge one withholds. Sadly, but truthfully, mine is higher than yours in this situation, and probably many others." He said smugly, smiling wickedly. _

"_Oh, shut up." Hermione growled._

_He raised an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"_

"_I told you to shut up," Hermione said more confidently and less spur-of-the-moment, as she whipped out her wand. "Now. I do, have a Transfiguration class to get to, so if you'll excuse _me_, I'll be going."_

_He laughed as she took three stops. She stopped._

Her dreams were indeed haunted with images of Hermione being disloyal to Tom, or Tom once again ending their relationship for his own purposes of power, wealth, and dominance.

She woke relieved, happy to rid herself of the horrid memories in her mind that still swam as clearly as the lake was swirling outside. Hermione vanished into the bathroom no sooner than six in the morning, leaving the other non-troubled girls to snore on.

Hermione had not done more than let three drops of hot bath water into the tub when she had to grab for a towel and dry her eyes. She snapped at herself.

"If you don't get a grip on yourself you'll be wailing and you'll wake the other girls." Hermione told herself firmly, dipping her feet into the water.

_She slowly turned to his laughing form. She could have winced at the sound._

"_Where do you think your going?" He asked cruelly, stepping forward and blocking the portrait hole._

"_Transfigur_–_" _

"_Back in 1997?" He interrupted, as though he had been bursting to say this._

"_What?" She snapped lunging for the door handle to check this._

"_Don't!" He warned harshly, slapping her hand away from the handle. "You're in 1947, so you won't be going anywhere for a while." He finished, smirking and steering her back onto the couch._

"_What?" She repeated, not trying to make herself sound smart anymore._

"_You're not leaving here. In fact, you won't be leaving this common room for a long time…"_

"_Says who, you?" Hermione asked angrily. _

"_Yes," He answered coolly. "Imperio!" He shouted, and Hermione couldn't duck in time._

_She had the soft feeling of floating in air. She had no worries of her Transfiguration class, or the time period anymore… She didn't care about anything anymore. She probably had a faint, dizzy look on her face, but who cared? _

_A cold voice said something and the ring of nothingness seemed to crumble slightly under the fierce voice that didn't fit into the lovely air of nothing._

"_Tell me that you will never leave this room…" He commanded._

_Hermione felt the air of perfection crumble more._

"_Come on, now, tell me that you will never leave this room…"_

_The air was certainly vanishing. She had started worrying about her classes again._

"_I _said_ for you to tell me that you will never leave this room. NOW!" He roared, and the ring vanished._

_Hermione collapsed on the floor, panting slightly; with the power of trying to break the curse and feeling it crumble at the same time._

"_Y-You are b-breaking your own w-words." She gasped, getting to her feet._

She felt completely drenched and soaked when she stepped out of the bathtub two minutes later without touching the large variety of shampoo and soap bottles glittering in front of her.

Hermione grabbed for the fluffiest towel she could find and gathered her clothes together slowly, and finally stealing one glance at the mirror self of her when she was done dressing.

She gasped.

_He looked extremely angry, stashing his wand away inside his robes._

"_We'll see." He concluded dramatically, before turning around and stomping toward the portrait hole._

Her eyes were puffy, blotchy, and surrounded with dark rings that reflected the red shine on her cheeks. She brought a hand up to rub her eyes. Her entire face looked overworked and sort of recycled, dark shadows interspersed with the murkiest of red.

"You look something awful, dear." The mirror wheezed, and Hermione jumped back, looking offended.

_Hermione kept to herself for most of the day, hoping that the presumable 'Tom Riddle' would return to calmly explain the situation. He had been right – if this really was 1947, there was no way of explaining this to anyone. This must have been well planned… But how in Merlin's beard did he make it to 1990? Was he simply like a complex memory, which Hermione had slid into, and was able to speak and talk and make a difference?_

_But she didn't have much time to worry about that. She decided not to leave the common room since she would not know how to return; the password was none to her knowledge, and if anybody could get her back, it was Tom. _

_She remained rooted to the spot on that couch. She luckily didn't have to endure any other Slytherins, since Tom had probably stashed her away upstairs in the Head-Boy bedroom, which nobody in the dormitory could enter – and when everyone had left, deposited her back downstairs since he probably didn't want her poking around his private bedroom. Also, everyone had a busy N.E.W.T.-studying day in class, and since it was a beautiful day outside compared to the gloomy Slytherin common room, everybody had stayed away from her._

_Her stomach had been growling when she heard Tom slipping into the door and eyeing her chauvinistically. _

"_Sit down," He ordered, conjuring a goblet of water in front of her. "Here's the deal. You survive if you tell me about Harry Potter."_

_Hermione gaped at him incredulously. Who did he think he was._

I will lie. _Hermione heard herself think, and stuttered madly._

"_Fine," She tried to say irritably. He scowled. "Harry is very arrogant, he is too obsessed with getting the Ministry of Magic to be on his side that he seems to find time for his friends. A-And he is trying to convince some Death Eaters onto his side."_

_He must only understand half of it, but he seemed to read right through her. Riddle stood up. "Fine. If that is what you think of him… well, we might get along better than I would have thought." He had a clear evidence of disbelieving on his face._

"_What?"_

"_Well, let's say that you will be used for a different job." He announced with a satisfied tone._

_Hermione grimaced deeply. She was not applying for a position; she was trying to wheedle _out_ of her current position._

_He flicked his wand again and a small roll appeared. "Good day." He finished, nodding curtly and walking swiftly out of the room again._

"Hermione, are you in here?" Someone whispered through the crack of the doorway.

"Yes." Hermione answered hastily, seeing Parvati's face shining through the doorway.

"Oh, good, you're done." Parvati said cheerfully, pushing Hermione impatiently aside and occupying the sink immediately.

"Your welcome." Hermione huffed appallingly, throwing open the doorway and deciding to make her way to the hospital wing to see Harry in hopes that they might have lessened the security a bit.

_Hermione had devoured her roll in three bites, and even more hungry than she was before. She soon realized that Riddle had not meant torturing her to death over feeding him information about Harry, more or less feeding her food in general. As long as she daily told Riddle how insecure and how power-driven insane Harry was, he continued to conjure food from the lunch and dinner table in small amounts, since if he would not return the bargain, she would stop giving information._

_They were still very small bits of food, since Tom had not brought food suddenly into the common room, he simply had to store food in his pocket while nobody was looking and levitate them out at top speed to make Hermione think he indeed was conjuring food out of thin air like Dippet or Dumbledore._

"_And this was his answer?" Riddle asked curiously scribbling on a notebook._

"_Yes," Hermione responded hoarsely, rearranging herself on his Head-Boy bed. "He sometimes reveals information he really doesn't want to spill accidentally when he is in a rush." She answered, gulping down saliva._

"_Okay, then." Riddle answered, flipping close the notebook and appearing a goblet of ice-cold pumpkin juice and some toast. He jumped off the bed._

_Hermione gulped down the entire drink before Riddle had even stood up, and he laughed at her eagerness. But it wasn't as cold as it had always been, and Hermione wasn't the only one to notice. Riddle was perplexedly clearing his throat when she had resurfaced from the glass._

She knocked silently on the wooden doors to the hospital wing, and a crack revealing a beady blue eye appeared staring out of the crack.

"Who's there?" The voice of Madam Pomfrey asked sharply.

"It's me, Madam Pomfrey, Hermione Granger." She answered politely.

"Oh," She said quickly. "Well, then, I'm sorry Miss Granger_–_"

"Oh, please let me see Harry, I just want to see him."

"Miss Granger," Madam Pomfrey said impatiently and irritatingly through the door crack. "Mr. Potter is currently _unconscious_. Talking to an unconscious person is simply foolish. Besides, the boy seems to be suffering from some sort of brain problems – doesn't seem to remember much in fact." She finished briskly, before nodding behind the door and slamming it shut. Hermione sighed.

_In fact, the secretive boy of Tom Riddle was no longer quite so secretive. He trusted Hermione a bit more everyday, so Hermione made sure to keep her kindness in her voice, her politeness, and her temper rising to the point where she wanted to hex Riddle, under control, not to ruin this slow progress of trust._

_He did not reveal much, but seemed to think her reliable, since she vanished into his room on his orders to avoid the other Slytherins (since she did not need to explain more than she need to in front of a group of angry Slytherins) and stayed in the common room loyally as always. She hoped, that in one time or another, he might accidentally let it slip how to return to 1997 accidentally once he was completely comfortable with her, and she would be free of this slavehood where Harry Potter was greedy, self-centered, insensitive, and the other version of Tom Riddle._


	7. Broken

_Tom was careful not to make any more 'friendly' laughs and avoided Hermione even more. This suited her quite fine, she didn't need to be snapped at – Tom became more bitter and cold the more he actually smiled a little – but Hermione became quickly bored of being locked away in the Slytherin Common Room._

"Ms. Granger, why don't you see Madam Pomfrey?" McGonagall asked from the front desk, attempting to lift Hermione out of her seat.

She pushed herself out of her teacher's grasp. "I'll do that." She concluded, McGonagall still staring worriedly at her warily thin and worn looking form.

Hermione left the classroom at top speed, happy to leave the eyes of students, finding herself breaking down into tears in front of her classmates.

_He was basically feeding her poison. He was bribing her, blackmailing, more like, something that only made her somehow want to keep on talking to him._

_She was in limbo. She hated him, nevertheless; he had imprisoned her, basically, and somehow was becoming more and more attracted to him every time she heard him… Hermione never only went for looks, she knew he had more; brains was important to her… Did he see the same in her?_

"_Riddle," She asked impatiently, moonlight glaring through the windows as she rocked back and forth in her armchair. "Is that all, I've told you, Harry did _not_ think when he did this…" Hermione finished warily, her eyes staring transfixed in the electric, light blue flames in the fireplace – nothing like the warm, red flames that enlightened the Gryffindor common room she deeply missed._

"_Yes, Granger, that's all." He answered shortly, eyeing her irritably as though she was no longer being competent to his leisure. Hermione fought down the urge to call him a 'pathetic weasel who was only dependent on cleverer people than himself'._

_When he made his way up to Head Boy room adjoined to the Boys' Dormitories, Hermione realized he had done so rather in a hurry, without escorting her to her spot in the room to sleep on. _

_Hermione hurried after him, tired, but determined to catch him before he ran into the Head Boy room without further ado._

"_Riddle!" She whispered in a hiss, cantering up the stairs noiselessly. _

_He looked rather flustered, having been halfway done putting off a shirt before going into the Head Boy bathroom. Hermione blushed and stepped backward, her feet almost falling off of the staircase. Tom ignored her sardonically._

"_Am I sleeping in the common room with the house elves?" She hissed at him as rudely as she could in a whisper._

_Tom laughed a scoffing laugh, making the hair on her neck stand on end._

She hurtled straight first into the hospital wing door, knocking raptly on the wood.

A crack appeared immediately. Hermione heard an impatient sigh as the beady and bright blue eyes scanned Hermione.

"Miss Granger. I have told you that Mr. Potter is not up for visitors at the momen_–_"

"I'm not here to visit him," Hermione cut across her quickly. "I was sent to hospital wing by Professor McGonagall."

Madam Pomfrey looked suspiciously through the crack. "There seems to be nothing wrong with you, girl."

Hermione fought down the urge to shout at her.

"I was sent here." She repeated stubbornly.

Madam Pomfrey sighed loudly and ushered Hermione in. She was shocked to find almost all of the beds full of students – and she could see why Madam Pomfrey tried to keep as many sick students out of here.

"Be _careful_, now, girl!" She snapped at Hermione, who was peering around the beds. The one which she assumed Harry was resting in was out of sight by a bright blue curtain. "Terry Boot has an awful infection that'll go around in seconds, Wayne Hopkins and Owen Cauldwell has already caught it!"

Pomfrey bustled around and urged Hermione into a bed, thrusting a potion into her hands.

"Professor McGonagall has informed me of your absence in transfiguration – having a sort of 'breakdown' I suppose? Drink that…" She asked sharply, about to turn away.

Hermione, who was halfway to tipping the contents of the phial into her mouth coughed suddenly and withdrew the phial. "Madam Pomfrey? I – I didn't have a breakdown_–_" Hermione stuttered, holding the potion away.

"Miss Granger, what was it then?" She asked irritably, fluffing up one bed's pillows.

"I_–_" Hermione stopped herself. How was she supposed to explain this? "Just halfway welled up, that's all_–_"

"Well, that potion will clear you right up, girl, so drink it or get out of my hospital." Madam Pomfrey snapped, appearing at her bed and enclosing a slightly bony hand around the phial and beginning to splash it into her mouth. She took it hastily from her.

"_Serpent Fang, c'mon," Tom growled at the door, which burst open. "Are you coming or are you deciding to have a friendly chat with the elves all night?" Tom asked coldly at Hermione, who rapidly stepped into the Head Boy bedroom._

"C'mon, 'Mione, you'll miss Potions_–_"

"Will I, really?" Hermione snapped coldly, stuffing her books into her bag while Ron edged nervously around the floor.

The potion that Hermione had taken from Madam Pomfrey had worn off in two hours, causing another accidental mind-drifting session in Herbology, effecting in some more tears. Therefore Professor Sprout had sent Ron to escort her safely to the hospital wing, where Madam Pomfrey, simply livid – had prescribed Hermione to take the potion hourly. While her mind still drifted off to other realms of the past, she no longer did cry at all, keeping the teachers satisfied.

Hermione dug in her bag for a small glass phial full of amber liquid, and swallowed the contents in one gulp once she had removed the waxed-on cork. An unpleasant taste of pepper and salt overtook her tongue and she had to stop herself from spitting out the potion again.

"Hermione," Ron said, sounding annoyed. "Why do you have to take that?"

She barely cast him a glance before shortly answering: "Never you mind, Ron, get to class." And Ron sighed loudly before stomping away.

Hermione delved deeper into her bag, looking for another phial to set out for later, when her hands grasped something cold and small.

Curiously pulling out the object, yet fear starting to tremble through her about really not wanting to see what it was, she extended out a small, brown, and oak hourglass with the glass broken in one section and only a few grains of sand remaining on the bottom of the glass. She trailed her fingers carefully over the glass, not caring that she had cut her thumb on the broken glass, but that the imprints of two hands were still clear on the glass.

Tears welled up as she looked at the left and broken side of the hourglass. She could identify the prints here as his, two of his fingers imprint gone with broken piece of glass. She broke down on the floor, the hourglass slipping through her fingers as she fell onto her knees. Hermione watched the glass shatter in slow motion; her eyes were no longer paying attention to her surroundings. The broken remains only showed one thing – the thing that was happening between her and Tom now.

His side had been broken to begin with – and know the entire thing lay in shatters at her feet. Despite the potion tears were gushing down her front and obscuring her vision into nothing but the blurry image of glass shards still clear in her mind. Together – they were nothing but _broken._

_Author's note: Yeah, thanks a lot, for the five reviews… I really do appreciate it. Nobody but one person in particular commented on the idea of switching the title to 'Cruel Intentions'. DOES NOBODY READ THE BLOODY AUTHOR'S NOTE?? Read the last chapter's note please. XD_

_Reviews appreciated! hugs the reviewers non-flamers_

_Lastly, sorry that this was so short!_


	8. Million Tears

Hermione knew that she missing almost her entire Potions lesson – but the now her thumb was bleeding freely around the glass. She couldn't really see it – her vision was blurred as she hastily wiped her eyes.

She cried way too much. She got emotional way too much. She cared too darn much about Tom – the greatest yet darkest wizard out there… Had he never seen any of this coming? Had he really wanted to transform himself into a younger Tom Riddle, send himself forward to feed off of someone close to Harry, and risk having himself killed as a handsome seventh year and therefore murdering his evil, older self?

_Several times Hermione wondered whether he had cursed her – or even possessed her; since she found herself willingly talking to Tom every night when the Slytherins had filed away. Didn't they ever grow suspicious of him? All the time, staying up late on weekends… Missing lunch and going to the library during long periods of time during weekdays… However, this seemed perfectly normal for Tom to constantly be a very individual and private person, and go off on rampages to the library often. Somehow, he reminded Hermione of herself, which frankly scared her at times…_

All of this was deeply confusing Hermione – so mustering as much energy as she could, she brought trembling hands to the shards and threw them into the bag, some breaking and some falling onto clothes. She groped within her trunk and found another vial, which she cleared away instantly into her mouth, stopping her tears and stemming the flows slowly.

She rushed into Potions, where everybody had only been unloading their bags. Slughorn had obviously not arrived yet, so she slipped into her seat next to a befuddled Ron and unloaded her things onto her work desk.

"Yes… yes… terribly sorry I'm late… Friday mornings confuse me–" Slughorn mumbled, rubbing his head as he made his way to his own desk. A pang hit Hermione as she realized that it _was_ indeed Friday. "Anyway… everyone turn to page one hundred and six… A regular potion of Euphoria is what we're trying to accomplish today. Although your books clearly announce how the potion should look after every stage, they do not specify how it should look in the end – which is why I have this," Slughorn heaved out a small cauldron from his desk, which was a rusty cauldron with sun-bright liquid bouncing inside of it cheerfully. He grabbed a sprig of peppermint from his desk and snapped it in half, winking. He tossed it into the cauldron.

"Peppermint sprigs add a side affect of balancing over-giddiness and excessive singing of the drinker. Now, no one will get it perfect, but the one closet to perfect I will perfect within five minutes and everyone can try it… It should wear off quickly since there will be only a small amount for everyone, but it's a wonderful feeling. You'll sort of be lost in yourself." Slughorn announced dismissively, as the familiar scraping of cauldrons passed around the room.

_But despite the times when Hermione felt related to him, and felt that she might be able to actually comfort him in certain situations, there were always the times when she hated his face._

"_Granger, definitely no dinner." He said gruffly._

"_But I told you information!" Hermione said quickly, outraged._

"_Something you have effectively repeated for the third time now." He finished coldly._

_Hermione scowled. This bargain was turning out to be quite a kick in the back at times, but Hermione didn't want to go home yet. She felt that there were still things that were unfinished business to her._

Hermione had actually been focusing and not sidetracked during the entire lesson. Her potion was following the exact instructions in her book, making sure to add the peppermint. Her potion was the first to turn sunshine yellow, while Ron's was turning a pale pink rather steadily.

When Slughorn at started warning people about the time, Hermione was already hurrying over to the cabinet to get some more ingredients to add the finishing touches. Her potion, canary yellow, was bouncing when she had dropped in the pickled leeches.

"Alright everyone, let's see the cauldrons… Crabbe, that is not passable, homework, indeed… Ah, Mr. Macmillan, you seemed to have missed the hellebore, but not to worry… Mr. Weasley, did you skip the first three lines?"

"N-No."

"Did you add the peppermint?"

"Yeah."

Slughorn passed him a quizzical look, and swiftly passed over to Hermione.

"Wonderful, color, Ms. Granger! I'm not sure if even Harry could have done a better job! I'll just cork this around into bottle and everyone can try little Euphoria, here…" Slughorn chuckled, delighted, as he flicked his wand and the potion soared into a group of floating vials.

Hermione smiled at the potion, attempting to jump off the cork. Perhaps this would make her feel better.

_The moonlight was glistening through the curtains, which were billowing slightly. Hermione was waiting on the coach, hidden in the shadows, and waiting for Tom to fall asleep. But his breathing wasn't becoming slow and quiet._

"_Are you awake, Tom?" She whispered, leaning forward slightly from the coach to peer into the bed. _

"_Why does it matter?" He snapped, being simply wide-awake and making Hermione jump._

"_Because I can't fall asleep either." She responded coldly._

"_Oh," He said, but had sat up by now and wasn't dropping back down again to fall asleep. An awkward silence paused as Hermione felt Tom's eyes on her and she immediately blushed although the light couldn't show it._

"_Isn't it like one o'clock in the night, Hermione?" He asked wearily, and Hermione looked up surprisingly; he had just called her her first name._

"_I suppose," She answered uncomfortably, her neck prickling of being monitored still under Tom's gaze. Both of them were ineptly silent again. "So are you ever going to release me into the real world? You know, forward in time again?" Hermione asked smiling, trying to keep her voice casual._

"_I'm not planning on it."_

_Hermione felt her spine tingle and her heart rise hopefully for no reason. She mentally punched herself in the brain. That phrase could mean two different things…_

_But Hermione dropped the subject._

She had swallowed the potion quickly, and feeling a jump in her head, she eagerly refilled her vial with the leftover contents of her cauldron and swallowing them, too. _Over-confidence and rash decisions are followed side effects of the drinker…_ Hermione remembered in her mind, but ignored it nonetheless.

"Ms. Granger, may I see you up here for a moment?" Slughorn called, as everyone merrily was skipping out of the classroom when they were packed up.

"Yes?" She asked in an overly sweet voice. Slughorn watched her with halfway-risen eyebrows and amusement before chuckling.

"Works in funny ways, doesn't it?" He commented, pointing toward his own rusty cauldron of demonstrative Euphoria.

Hermione nodded giddily.

"Anyway, I wanted to talk to you about your friend Harry…" He said, readjusting in his seat. "How is he – cooped up in the hospital?" He asked quietly.

"I don't know, sir. I'm not allowed to see him, and as far as I know he hasn't even woken up yet."

"Oh, poor Harry. I must go see Madam Pomfrey about her restriction limits in the Hospital Wing." He said curiously.

"Of course." Hermione answered cheerfully, images of marigolds popping into her mind.

"_So, how is it there? Back in 1997?" Riddle asked in a quiet but somehow friendly voice. Hermione sighed in relief as the older awkward silence had been filled again. _

"_Not much different. But everyone is rather tired from fighting Vol_–_"Hermione had started, but caught herself just in time. Tom sensed it and scowled._

"_So people aren't afraid to say 'Voldemort' in the future?" Tom asked coldly._

"_Well, I'm not," Hermione responded automatically and simply. "Neither is Harry." She added._

"_I'm not surprised." For a moment, they both stared into each other's shadowy forms in an icy way._

"_It's actually nice to see things actually peaceful here. Sad, isn't it? That that isn't how it'll stay." Hermione continued stiffly._

_Tom's scowl became deeper in the light. _

"_Some people are destined to a plot that they dedicate their lives to."_

"_So you were this intimidating when you nine or so?" Hermione asked quickly._

"_Some people would say so." Riddle replied shortly._

"_And you're proud of your future?"_

"_I'm still trying to continue it today, are I not? Lord Voldemort is in my very flesh. I'm only a younger version, Granger." His eyes flashed dangerously._

"_So you don't regret anything? If you had the choice to take it away and start over – which obviously you do – you wouldn't do something else?"_

"_Unless somebody would give me a good reason to." He said quickly, and Hermione saw him vanishing into the pillow once again sharply. She blinked. That was the second 'uncomfortable hint' he had thrown out. What was this 'good reason'? _

_Her lips formed into a smirk. She could play with his head. She could save the wizarding world if she tried; she could turn into the promising 'helper' and 'girlfriend' with convincing and soon save Tom from the evilness he would get sucked into._

_The only problem was not falling for Tom during the process._

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hello, mighty chaps! I hope people have started reading this… Anyway, Merry Christmas to all! I probably won't be updating again before Christmas, unless I'm nice and spend all Christmas Eve perfecting a chapter and then send one in on Christmas day! How many of you are bored enough on Christmas to check?? ;) Anyway, the entire 'hourglass' thing will be explained. I've wanted to cheer Hermione up a bit, so I added the Euphoria potions thing. :D As you can see, I changed the title!! And, I wrote basically the entire rest of the story on notebook paper – so it'll be updating faster! It's just hard to write this part – the awkwardness and everything… I've tried to keep everyone not OOC and ooze in the change of personality. Drama ahead! Sorry for the long updates! Merry Christmas, everyone!! (I'll take Christmas gifts and add updates!! Give me any oneshot stories I'll write for you as long as it's not Ron/Hermione or Ginny/Harry – sorry!! Also, Tom/Hermione oneshot are impossible to do!!)

HermioneGranger47393

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_Emailia_: Yeah, but having short chapters annoy _me_, at least… Thanks for reviewing, keep on sending, please! Merry Christmas!


	9. Time Runs Away

_Hermione knew that that would be a problem. Probably not the only problem, but the biggest at the least. The fact that she dwelled on this tweak in her plan so much did interfere with the rest of her imprisonment of life, since now she could only think of Tom, and not in an entirely 'I hate his guts' sort of way. And she hadn't even started with the inevitable plan yet._

It seemed reasonably quiet to Hermione when she clambered back to the portrait hole, a very light feeling on her head as the potion was wearing off. Ron was slumping into the Gryffindor Common Room.

"Don't look so depressed, Ron." She said cheerfully, shutting her book.

"You're the one to talk… whenever I round the corner these days you're crying her head over something… all the time, too… Are you in love with Harry and you're heartbroken because he's in the hospital?"

"Don't be silly." Hermione scoffed playfully.

"It's something about your grades?" Ron suggested hopefully.

"Of course not."

"Are you upset about leaving the school?"

"Actually, no." Hermione answered promptly.

Ron sighed heavily from the armchair, scooting down lower.

"Fine. It's nice to see you actually distracted, though, in Potions and everything… The best in the year again, eh? I could use some of that sunflower potion again."

"Euphoria potion, Ron." Hermione corrected sternly, grabbing for the book again.

_Before she knew what had happened, life had changed around 1940 in Hogwarts, and the Great Hall was full of glittering snowflakes and the windows were wonderful winter scenes. Hermione was wistfully watching the snow scenes on the first day of December, leaning her arms on the window of the Slytherin common room when Tom walked in shaking off his robes. A pile of white flurries hit the floor._

"_What in Merlin's beard are you doing, Granger?" He shrieked, seeing Hermione in the middle of the common room. "You will get caught, I'll get caught – did you already get caught by someone?" He explained irritably, jabbing a finger accusingly at Hermione with his nostrils flaring._

"_No, Riddle, would you relax? Nobody will want to come into this gloomy common room on such a fun day where classes are cancelled early unless they're boring, probably bored as well, and socially challenged with their classmates," Hermione explained swiftly, as Tom's eyes flashed at the description referring to him. "Or they're simply imprisoned by a cruel, impassive wizard like the one standing right in front of me."_

"_Not today, Granger, enough with your witty insults." He snapped, putting his cloak on again._

"_Why are you all wet and snowy?"_

"_Herbology. You think we wouldn't have to go out there in this weather…" He said bitterly._

"_Can I get lunch now?" Hermione asked impatiently. He shot her an irritated look. "Well, it's very boring up here all day, you know. The only thing you can really do is get hungry." But Tom had empty pockets, and shrugged sycophantically before heading back out the door._

"_And stay hidden!" He bellowed at the door before the portrait hole swung closed._

_Hermione waved an airy hand in feeble consideration, but did not move from her spot. It was only a Christmas Crush, that was all. She did not have deep feelings for the cruel, impassive and explosive boy who could pass off as tremendously handsome and sophisticated. _

"I wish that we would have a day _off_…" Ron mused dreamily, while Hermione idly turned a page of her book.

"It's _so_ close to N.E.W.T.'s, Ron, and you want to skive off?"

"Not the N.E.W.T. part, the rest of it. I'm so bored these days just waiting for lessons." Ron said moodily, slumping into his chair further.

"Then here," Hermione suggested, pushing a tall pile of notes and musty books toward the red-haired boy. "Study for N.E.W.T.'s."

_Hermione was deeply surprised to find a feisty looking mistletoe hung up in the Slytherin Common Room over the leather couch when she woke up in the morning. Making sure it was at least ten o'clock, she shook her robes back over her wrist and left the Head Boy room. Tom, casually sitting on the couch, seeing her wave heartedly toward his direction, jumped off the couch in such speed Hermione thought he might as well had been standing there all along. Tom twitched before sending a resentful glare at the mistletoe. Hermione blushed as she realized that the greenery had hung right over the spot where Tom had been sitting before jumping away. She laughed._

"_I don't know if it was the staff or some idiot second year looking for a desperate girl to kiss." Tom muttered bitterly, his eyes on the mistletoe._

"_Apparently you mind." Hermione announced with a smile, taking the juice pitcher off of the coffee table and pouring herself some._

"_Of course I do," He snapped. "I don't want to dedicate my time to making sure that some mistletoe isn't looming over my head. I feel… insecure… when girls are always blushing when they see me under it." _

"_You brought quite a large breakfast, Tom. How in the world did you smuggle this out?" Hermione asked incredulously, holding up the orange juice pitcher._

"_Invisibility charm interspersed with a levitation charm. It was hard to know where it was most of the time while I was shooting it around everywhere with my wand." _

_Hermione laughed. "You should do that with all of the leftover plates." She said encouragingly, while Tom uncomfortably settled himself under the couch again. _

"_An orchestra of food floating down the hallway only halfway in my control is bound to cause ruckus. The perfect way to start a Saturday, hmm?"_

"_It's how Peeves starts Sundays back in 1990." Hermione said idly, gulping down her last bit of juice. She looked up curiously as she saw Tom attempt to levitate the mistletoe away._

"_Probably the staff, I reckon, that's a permanent sticking charm." Tom said nervously, daring to stand onto the coffee table for a closer look and to prod the greenery. _

Hermione had had luck in the rest of her class, determined to shine once again in her grades, since the feeling she had gotten in Potions was so lovely when she had once again beaten her classmates in the potion. When she had returned, Ron was red-faced and leaning over one particularly ruffled note piece from History of Magic.

"Ron, why are you reading that? You don't even take History of Magic anymore!" Hermione exclaimed, glancing surprisingly at the half finished pile of notes that were resting haphazardly on the coffee table. She hurried forward, shuffling them into a neater position.

"It looks like Charms to me. I can't tell, the inks a little smudged…" Ron analyzed, holding the note up to the window. Hermione snatched it out of his hand.

"This _is_ History of Magic, Ron, no need to be reading this when you totally don't have to. You're ruining the note paper, it already has two new tares!" She exclaimed, flattening out the note piece. Ron, mustering as much indignance as he could, looked utterly insulted at the other side of the couch.

"_Why do you have such a fear of being kissed by a girl anyway?" Hermione asked curiously, straightening out her dishes. Tom hopped down from the table and sat back down onto the couch._

"_I'm not a very 'relationship' type of person." Tom answered shortly._

"_I've realized. Come on, though, Tom. What's the big deal if a girl leans down and does_–_" Hermione impulsively leaned down and quickly kissed Tom's cheek, feeling her mouth burn as she raised herself again. She blushed. "_– _er, that."_

_Tom looked absolutely horrified about what she had just done. Pulling himself together, he spoke in a slightly strangled voice. "Because _– _as you can probably see – it makes me look and feel very uncomfortable. So I beg your pardon _not_ to that again!" He said quickly, as Hermione tried to laugh off the situation she had just gotten herself into._

Author's Note: I bet you found this kind of short. It's two and a half pages, so it really shouldn't be… But anyway, I wrote this yesterday but wanted to update on Christmas Eve for a Christmas surprise! Merry Christmas, you guys are in for a dramatic and angsty story after this chapter, be prepared! The romance is starting to happen, you know! And mistletoes just are a perfect excuse to have Hermione impulsively kiss Tom. squee! Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays, Happy Kwanzaa, Happy H/Chanukah!

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_MiKaYGiRl:_ I really liked putting in that phrase; I hope you review again and like the chapter! Merry Christmas!

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	10. Moonlit Caress

_Disclaimer_: Honestly, do you people have nothing better to do than read that I don't own this story? Well, just to clarify (_again_) I don't.

_As Hermione had suspected, Tom had definitely not given her a Christmas present, and neither had Hermione. She had no time to go to Hogsmeade and pick out things, and even if she would, she wouldn't have a priority to get something nice for Tom. And it was a vice-versa situation._

_Tom never left the school, it seemed. Not to have snowball fights, slide across the lake, visit Zonkos or Honeydukes in Hogsmeade, or be the social butterfly in the common room. Most of this was because of the fact that he had no friends and didn't want any._

_But she never would have suspected that Tom would avoid her fully on Christmas day to make out of guilt of not getting her something. And Hermione stayed out of Tom's way, to save herself from having any 'incidents' under the mistletoe._

Hermione was just walking back from Herbology on a day when summer was creeping into the castle. The lake rose, the flowers bloomed brightly, and muddiness was all around the outside.

She could still hear the rain pouring onto the windows as she shook off her bag, which she had been holding over her head to prevent getting showered when running back into the castle.

With muddy shoes and dirty puddles, the Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors were fuming about their state of attire when they heard the familiar wheezing of Filch looming around the corridors. Glancing a fretful look at Ernie Macmillan and Susan Bones – whom she had been talking to – the three separated and Ron ushered her through the hidden corridor behind one of the tapestries.

"Filch won't find us here!" He hissed, as Hermione reluctantly shot him a hesitant glance. "C'mon!" And he pulled her through it.

Making their way through out the deserted passageway, Ron lifted open another tapestry at the end to reveal a corridor near the Gryffindor Common Room.

"Muck… Dirt… Mud… More scrubbing than I ever saw… Those kids are going to be a–"

They heard nearby, and Ron rushed forward with Hermione at his heel. Ron was steering toward Gryffindor tower, but Hermione turned earlier and rapped on the hospital wing door.

"No visi–" Madam Pomfrey recited sternly through the door creak, but stopped. "Oh, Miss Granger. What is it now?"

"Can I see Harry, please?" She asked pleadingly.

"Miss Granger, have the circumstances changed at all from the last time you asked to come in? We are not taking any more chances with these kids." She repeated briskly, starting to turn away.

But Filch had limped past her, not minding to notice a hospital patient. Hermione darted toward the common room, where Ron was not sitting. He came slumping in ten minutes after Hermione settled comfortably on the couch.

"Filch caught me, I have detention." Ron growled, throwing himself in an armchair.

_Waking up on a fresh Christmas morning, Hermione wasn't all that pleased. _

_She stayed in her room until ten o'clock like usual, and traipsed tentatively down the stairs, dressing rather slowly._

_Tom wasn't sitting in one of the leather armchairs or the couch; the common room was as empty as ever. Hermione peered around the beds right next to her._

_The boys' dormitory seemed to be exploded in wrapping paper and gift bags. Sighing at the sight, Hermione eased the door closed again after edging into the Head Boy bedroom._

_Tom didn't visit at all, not until Hermione heard boys yawning up the creaking staircase and slumping onto the bed. She waited until she heard the last light click off before she slipped out of the room again to see if Tom was in the common room._

"_Riddle, are down there?" She hissed in a whisper, careful to avoid the third step from creaking._

_His jet-black hair bounced out of the shadows and a ghostly white face appeared in the moonlit rays._

"_Are they all asleep?" He mouthed quickly. Hermione furrowed her eyebrows before peering into the boys' dormitory again and nodded. He beckoned her down with his hand._

"_Christmas pudding and Christmas tea gets them sleeping like they've been walking for miles," Riddle said rather amusingly. "But that's good, of course, that gives me more time to talk to you."_

_Hermione's stomach lurched. She knew he was only questioning inquiries about Harry, but couldn't help getting excited. But Hermione could barely see his face; the electric-blue and white fire flames were extinguished. _

"_Did you have any classes free today because of the holidays?" Hermione asked quietly, sinking into the couch._

"_No. Holidays are never an excuse for no homework. But Dumbledore had Christmas music playing during Transfiguration. The Trans-Siberian Orchestra." He said slowly, recalling the day's classes._

"_I love the Trans-Siberian Orchestra!" Hermione squealed excitedly, repositioning herself on the couch. "My father taught me how to dance the Waltz to 'Carol of the Bells'." Hermione said silently._

"_How do you dance the Waltz to Carol of the Bells?" Tom asked with a disbelieving expression. Hermione jumped up and positioned her hands on an air-figure in front of her._

"_It would look better if someone would actually be here." Hermione said, laughing, and Tom twitched._

"_Can I help?" He offered uncertainly. Hermione stared._

"_Um – sure, I guess – it would make it easier, I suppose – uh, okay–" She stuttered, and Tom slowly got up._

Hermione spent the rest of the day reading, Ron playing with an old Fanged Frisbee in the common room. After seven o'clock, he slumped out of his seat for his detention.

Hermione was losing a game of Wizard's chess to Lavender – who didn't have anything else to do either – in the common room when Ron came back, sour.

"What happened, Ron?" Hermione sympathized.

"That foul Squib had me cleaning the second floor corridor – mud all over the place!" He howled, nursing his hands.

"Aha! Checkmate!" Hermione said triumphantly, knocking over Lavender's white King. "It can't have been that bad." She continued, leaving the chess table.

"I went through four buckets of Mrs. Skower's All-Magical Mess Remover." Ron growled, rubbing his hands tenderly. He punched the pillow next to him.

"Not that bad." Hermione idly said, reaching for '_Guide to Advanced Transfiguration_'.

"If I would have kept going through the night, by morning I would have looked like I'd have competed in a mud wrestling competition." Ron said wearily.

Hermione hit him over his head with a pillow.

_She was already biting on her tongue when Tom placed a hand on her waist and swallowed her voice into her throat in a gulp so loud that he must have heard it. When Tom was staring blankly at her, she remembered that she was supposed to be showing him a dance she learned._

_It seemed that Tom's hands were slipping ever so often, leaving Hermione blushing in the shadows. Neither of them were really steering. In fact, neither of them were actually moving, as more or less moving one foot three inches right and the other foot following every minute or so._

_Was it her imagination, or was Tom's hand definitely not on her waist anymore – she didn't dare look down. And was he leaning in toward her? She looked up slowly into his black eyes, with no hungry, greedy, or even impassive look mirroring through them. A look of adoring and sensitiveness was in them, when Hermione realized that this was _her_ eyes reflecting in his and for that to happen they had to be really, really close, which they were… and closer, too._

_A sudden wave of impulsiveness blew over her and her eyes closed._

_They must be a centimeter apart, she could feel his breath on her lips – she was just about to lean forward just a bit more, when a sudden, new wave overtook her._

_Physical nausea. _

"Are the Easter holidays already over? I don't remember them. N.E.W.T.'s shouldn't be here yet." Ron said worriedly, rifling through a pile of Hermione's notes.

"Yes, they are. You should have followed that planner I gave you two years ago for Christmas," Hermione snapped briskly, shuffling through the pages of '_Advanced Rune Translation' and 'Compendium of Common Curses and Their Counter-Actions'. "Ron, have you seen my 'Confronting the Faceless' book? It was just here!"_

_Ron shot her a glance. "No. Where are your Defense Against the Dark Arts notes?"_

_Hermione looked up from 'Important Modern Magical Discoveries' and looked at the large stack of notes she had lent him. She pointed to a foot long pile of yellow parchments._

_It wasn't like she had thrown up on his shoulder. It wasn't like she had thrown up on the leather couch next to them. She had simply wrenched herself from Tom's grip the moment he drew a strangled breath and rushed up the boys' dormitory stairs with her hand over her mouth to charge into the Head Boy room adjoining the dormitories and make it to the sink in time._

_The next morning, Hermione definitely didn't want to get up. It was around six in the morning, a faint yellow and pinkish glow forming on the horizon. Hermione rolled over on the Head Boy couch and grumbled silently. _

_What an idiot she had made herself in front of Tom._

_And she realized, with an unpleasant 'pop' in her head, that she had a deep crush on him._

_And it wasn't a five thousand-piece puzzle to figure out that crushes on Tom Riddle were painful, horrible, terrifying, and repulsive things._

_Author's Note:_

_Merry Christmas! New Year is fast approaching and I'll let you all know that I'll have an update on New Years Eve! I hope everyone had a good holiday, I sure did. But on Christmas Eve I did have a rather nasty case of caffeine boosts, and was practically bouncing off the walls when I climbed into bed around midnight. And now, three days after Christmas, my parents are still regretting giving me that video camera. (This chapter was four and a half pages – you should be proud!! Sorry for the slow updates!) Lastly, just to say - it's the Cruel Intentions ten year annivesary, or for you oldies, or regular reviewers, The End, if it helps. Ten Chapters and nothing interesting yet... I hope you aren't bored! I'm not, and hope to make this a long, long story, so expect more and much more with essence of more angst and drama!! _D_  
_

_Review Replies:_

_JuliaKerns5: Read the books, please! It'd be so fun to talk about that. Let me know the minute you have an email account or an account. Since these reviews are like pen-pal emails, I'll tell you that I live in Kansas (cool, huh? Not…) and am also 15 years old. I absolutely love writing and reading and drawing, too, and my favorite movie is Moulin Rouge. My favorite book is definitely HP3, read it! I originally lived in Germany. Thanks for reviewing; I hope you had a great Christmas!_

_Heatherness2134: Yes, it was a Christmas update, and so is this, in all logic. Please review on but ask one of your English friends to spell check your reviews!_

_Tom Riddle's reluctant bride: Cool name, I'll say! Thanks for being one of the first to review, makes me feel so special! D Hope you had a happy Christmas, if you celebrate Christmas – and will have a good New Year!_

_MiKaYGiRl: Ha! I've memorized how to spell and capitalize your name without checking! Are you proud of me;) ?? Merry Christmas, please review on!_

_Mrs Pierre Bouvier: You're welcome for the update:D For me, reviews are the best kind of present, they are such a nice moral booster! I know what you mean, Christmas stories without mistletoes – ugh – it's always a nice opportunity that's right under people's noses! I've taken your idea with the kiss on New Year's Eve – (want me to put you in disclaimer? ;) ) I really like it! And, as I said in the Author's note, I'll review on New Year's Eve! Are you proud?? D Thanks a bunch, happy Christmas!_


	11. When Time Stops

Disclaimer: Happy New Year! I don't even own New Year… Anyway, an extra person to put into the disclaimer! Besides from repeatedly saying that I do not own HP (which should have gone into your skulls by now, why bother repeating it), but my very dedicated reviewer '_Mrs Pierre Bouvier_' had given me the idea for a 'impulsive kiss' around New Year and that certainly is in here, no peck on the cheek anymore, either! Squee

_Hermione was rather surprised when she woke up on New Years Eve around eight in the morning, feeling sunken and rather bored, until ten minutes later Tom burst through the door looking quite disheveled. He chucked a Slytherin scarf onto his pillow and threw off his snow-laden cloak. _

"_Breakfast." He breathlessly announced, pulling off mittens and sending toast and packaged fruit soaring onto a plate. Hermione didn't look at it, but kept her eyes on Tom._

"_Well?" He snapped, narrowing his eyes unpleasantly at Hermione, still struggling to take off his left black mitten. "Aren't you eating? If you won't I'll take it, I've been out there since six_–_" Riddle said bitterly._

_Hermione pulled the plate slightly closer and picked up her fork. "Why were you outside? I've never seen you outside before – been playing in the snow?" Hermione added as an afterthought while grinning._

_His annoyed face turned into an irritable smirk. "Collecting ingredients."_

"_Ingredients? For what?"_

"_A potion, you nosy pest, now keep out of my business." Tom headed for the door in a swift motion and Hermione jumped off of the Head Boy couch quickly._

"_What kind of potion? What ingredients can you get from outside that you desperately need here for it?"_

_Tom, whirling around, sent a dark and exasperated look in her direction before sliding his hands off of the doorknob._

"_Nothing you need to worry about."_

Hermione didn't have that much time to study the next day – after she slipped into bed, she had had a restless nightmare about Tom and her and woke up in hysterical sobs and shaking (along to mention drenched in icy sweat), seeing the girls pulling back their bed hangings curiously. Hermione had had to shush them, thankful for the darkness so that they wouldn't see that she was the one tearing into her pillow – and had sent them furiously back to bed by throwing a Head Girl badge into their faces for proof that she had the power to send them to bed.

She had vanished silently into the bathroom after she had ushered them into bed, bluffing that she had to use the toilet, but instead decided to cry there instead in front of the awoken girls and explain quite a lot. She waited until they were asleep to slip out of the bathroom and fumble in her bag for her potion, only to find that the last bottle she had had smashed when she had stuffed her Ancient Runes book into it. In shock, Hermione had considered running to the hospital wing and was actually halfway out of the portrait hole, when logical sense popped into her mind and simply dispersed back into the bathroom, hugging her knees and crying profusely.

_After Tom had left, Hermione had every inch of her mind settled of trying to find out what the potion was Tom was desperately trying to brew – since he obviously went to lengths such as waking up at six to collect something from the frost-laden gardens outside of Hogwarts and possibly into the Forbidden Forest._

_But there were so many ingredients he could have gotten – unicorn tails, blood, or hair if he went into the forbidden forest – oak tree bark, squid blood, acromantula venom, aconite, armadillo bile, black beetle blood, erumpent parts, horned slugs and toads, knotgrass, leeches, lovages, pomegranate, runespoor eggs, sopophorous beans, and wormwood essence. The list seemed to be endless._

_After making an actual list of the possible ingredients found outside, Hermione was just about to start snooping around the potion's bookshelves in the Slytherin common room – since Tom's head boy room (while littered with shelves of books) had only provided so much information _– _when Tom walked in, and quite infuriated that she had gone to these lengths to find out what the potion was._

"_WOULD YOU JUST FORGET IT, YOU FILTHY LITTLE MUDBLOOD _–_ NEXT THING I SHOULD HAVE EXPECTED WOULD HAVE BEEN YOU ESCAPING THE SLYTHERIN COMMON ROOM AND GOING TO THE LIBRARY FOR BOOKS, HONESTLY GRANGER, I CANNOT LEAVE THIS ROOM WITHOUT YOU GETTING YOURSELF INTO TROUBLE, WHAT IF SOMEBODY ELSE HAD WALKED IN – EXPOSING YOURSELF TO EVERYONE WITH NO CAUTION – I AM DISGUSTED WITH YOU – YOU ARE SUPPOSED TO NOT LEAVE THE HEAD BOY ROOM ON MY ORDERS FOR SAFETY PRECAUTIONS AND I HAD REASONS FOR YOU TO FOLLOW THEM, UNDERSTOOD?!?!" He bellowed on, spraying Hermione with spit._

_Tom knew what she had been up to, and had himself gone to undreamable measures to make sure that Hermione could not gain any more information. After leaving the bathroom after a bath, Hermione had walked out tying her bathrobe when she saw Tom's shelves – halfway stripped, and Tom locking an ancient looking trunk with his wand. His head shot up when he saw Hermione. He stood up._

"_You did something very irresponsible and now_–_" He shoved the trunk into a corner. "You have paid for it. I am locking you into here, Granger, no leaving to find out what I'm doing – nosiness never pays off."_

Hermione had cried herself to sleep. After several hours of hugging her knees on the toilet seat, rocking herself backward and forward, she finally fell to sleep, and waking up again with red puffy eyes and rather tired from staying up for almost half of the night. First thing she had tried to do after de-puffying her eyes was taking a long, bubbly bath, which was cut short to an early call of Potions.

"Get out your scales, everyone," Slughorn instructed wearily. He tapped the board lightly with his wand and ingredients appeared. "These ingredients" – he pointed toward the blackboard – "are what you need to make your potion, and all of your ingredients you need are in these" – he motioned his hands toward the student cupboards, and three boxes zoomed forward for easier reach – "are all of your materials. Looking at the ingredients, who can tell me the potion we will attempt to brew?"

Hermione, her eyes reaching the bottom of list, had her hand shooting up into the air.

"Amortentia – the most powerful love potion in world! It's recognizable with it's curly swirls, but everyone's potion will smell different, since the potion gives off a smell that appeals to the drinker to cause more likely affects that people are drawn to the potion." Hermione recited.

"Very good, Miss Granger, ten points to Gryffindor. Your task is to make one as best as you can."

Hermione's chair was the first to scrape the floor as she darted to the cupboard of ingredients and dashed past the boxes Slughorn had pulled out for use. Instead, to improve her potion, she yanked open the darker cupboard in the back and eagerly loaded with Ashwinder Eggs before darting back to her seat.

_It was very obvious that Tom was top secret about his mysterious potion and was going to great lengths to keep Hermione from finding that out, though even with entry to the outside Hermione wouldn't be very lucky anyway._

_She had a plan in mind – a plan she had to wait with until three in the morning._

_Hermione, seeing the wristwatch on her hand hit around two thirty, jumped out of the black couch and went over to her robes that she had neatly folded over the armrest of the couch. Searching for the pocket inside her cloak, she fumbled in it for her wand, but was finding herself scraping at air._

_With a furious glance at Tom's sleeping form, she leapt up and went for the adjoining bathroom, were Tom's robes were folded. Searching inside his pockets with a suspicious hunch, she couldn't restrain a quiet 'ha!' as she pulled out her own wand,_

_So he had thought this through thoroughly._

_Swiftly moving out of the bathroom and heading for the doorknob, Hermione quickly stuffed her hand inside her robes again and pulled out her small list of ingredients._

_Tapping the door three times, she mumbled a series of spells and felt the lock click._

_She made sure to quietly pass the groups of beds with boys snoozing soundly in them, and disappeared down the stairs._

_She reached for the bookshelf in the common room, grabbing the biggest book she could find, and used it to keep the portrait hole door open – she didn't know the password._

"_Lumos!" She whispered, and ran silently through this part of the castle. She had been to the library so many times she found her way quite quickly, slipping into the restricted section and searching the walls for the book that she, Ron, and Harry had used to make the Polyjuice Potion – _'Moste Potent Potions'_ and took off in a run._

_Still clutching the book in her slightly sweaty hand, Hermione raced back to the Portrait Hole, but to her horror, someone had removed the book holding the portrait hole open for her._

She was quickly making her potion, which frothed into a gentle color of 'mother-of-pearl' sheen, which glowed. Ron was fluently cursing under his breath. The spirals from Hermione's cauldron were fogging and almost steaming the air, leaving everyone slightly dazed at the individual desirable smells wafted over them.

Hermione inhaled a nose full, closing her eyes.

The smell of parchment, old and musty books, a smell of freshness, and a smell of a refreshing men's colon that Tom never _really_ wore but always smelled like. Maybe she could finally forget about Tom with just breathing in his scent.

And Hermione, here eyes still closed, mumbled under her breath to herself in a reassuring way:

"He's here, he's with me, wherever I go."

_Tom had been simply livid when he had thrown open the portrait hole, dragging Hermione up the stairs – simply bursting to explode on her, and really did when they reached his room. Hermione realized that any chemistry she had produced was probably vanished into his anger by now. Her heart sinking low, she sank into the couch._

_Performing a silencing charm onto the door, he turned to Hermione, a muscle in his face twitching. His face steadily turning red to control his anger, he tried to speak in a calm, quiet voice, even though it came off as a threatening and even deadly whisper._

"_How you dared… I would never had guessed – I _told_ you I had reasons as to why you _were not_ allowed to leave, and what if someone else would have opened the door first? I'll tell you one thing, YOU WOULD HAVE BEEN MURDERED, AND DON'T DOUBT, GRANGER, BY ME!"_

_Hermione, springing up, looked at Tom with a fierce sort of blaze in her eyes._

"_Don't you tell me what is right and wrong, Riddle, you should be lucky I didn't run to the headmaster and told him everything while I was away last night. I would have had all the time in the night to tell him, and you couldn't have stopped me."_

_Tom's cheek twitched uncomfortably._

"_Sit." He seemed to have wanted to say more, but thought the better of it._

It was like a phantom of the mind that followed Hermione, and that kept her sane. Everyday was like a day of dementors constantly following her – but the feeling of Tom by her side – '_he's here, he's with me, wherever I go_' – kept her sane. It wasn't a happy feeling, but something that helped her stay human. Hermione had been smart enough to pocket some of her potion. She remembered the broken vial of amber liquid in her bag – and during potions, pretending to be looking for another potion's book, had 'Accioed' the broken shards.

"Reparo!" She muttered under her desk, the pieces forming a reusable vial.

She had gently tipped the cauldron sideways and after collecting two gulps, and had pocketed it hastily.

_Hermione had fully accepted her punishment. She didn't want to be in a room with Tom to listen to his complaints – she stayed in her room reading, seeing the sky darken outside, and with a sudden pang, she realized that today was New Year's day._

_Tom burst into the door a second later, dragging her out of the Head Boy room. Most of the girls and boys were already partying in the Slytherin common room. Some boy yelled for someone to redo the silencing charm on the portrait hole – and Hermione felt her face forming into a smile._

"_Brilliant. Absolutely inspired." Hermione mumbled, and felt herself tripping down the stairs as Tom pulled her._

"_What – Riddle – what in the world – I can't be seen, remember?" Hermione hissed as Tom pulled her farther into the crowd._

"_Believe me, Hermione," Hermione's stomach flopped as he used her first name. "You won't be realized or seen."_

_Hermione obviously didn't mingle, since she realized that Tom was right. As long as she didn't attract a lot of attention or talk to the Slytherins, she was completely ignored except for Tom._

_When midnight had been ticking nearer and nearer, a large crowd had started forming around an engorged clock to see the time, people shouting off 'five minutes, guys!' and other announcements._

_Tom, at the back of the crowd, was holding a small butterbeer to Hermione's amazement, and was watching lazily as the clock was only one minute away from midnight,_

"_A New Year, Riddle. Have any resolutions to be a better person or let me go?"_

"_Why should I?" Tom snapped, not meeting his eyes with Hermione's._

"_Well, you know – New Year, perfect time to become a new person. Yours could do with a lot of redecorating if you understand._

_Tom whirled at her, she thought for one terrifying moment that he was going to lunge at her, but was brought out of her wonders in a stagger backward as she saw darkness blurry her vision and Tom crush his lips down on hers, his tongue actually venturing into her mouth with Hermione wriggling unpleasantly beneath him, only hoping that she wouldn't get physically nauseas this time._

_She heard the sound of everyone bellowing 'one… ZERO!' and repeated cheers and shouts of 'Happy New Year', but someone had turned the volume off for Hermione. She thought she was going to fall backward, he had attacked her with such force not realizing that Hermione was only three feet away from hitting ground and her feet an inch away from hovering off of the floor; her arms somehow at her back with Tom's arms keeping them there from his tight grip. But even if she did fall –_

"He's there, he's with me, wherever I go."

Author's Note (wasn't this chapter long?): HAPPY NEW YEAR, lads and germs, I hope you enjoyed this chapter and hopefully READ THE DISCLAIMER, please.

This is my special-unique-distinctive update and gift for New Years – I have one resolution to share with all of you – "I will try to update faster"

Anyway, the whole, '_He's there, he's with me, wherever I go_' and the '_he was a phantom of her mind that kept her sane_' is sadly enough a real life experience of mine. You know/remember (or are experiencing this right now) those days when you were practically in love or more or less infatuated with someone and he/she never even noticed you and you had no idea if she/he knew you even existed? Well, it's oddly comforting to think '_He's there, he's with me, wherever I go_' because it's reassuring and feeling like you have a friend that never leaves you and understands you. It's like a one sided mirror – you look through the reflective side and see him because he's with you wherever you go, and he looks on the other side, and can't even see a mirror. Like a string that you're holding so tightly that extends to the male/female you're infatuated with but they don't see it… _Sob_

Little analogies there. Not meaning to be deep, or anything, but really does… _but_, basically, it's comforting – it's a friend who walks in when the whole world walks out. Lastly, I would like to bring everyone's attention to a very dedicated reviewer of mine: '_Mrs Pierre Bouvier_' who gave me an idea for the story and is mentioned in the disclaimer, if you would all read that in her honor. :D

Anyway, Happy New Year to all of you, please enjoy the holidays!!

_No reviewer file _(because I am frickin' TIRED today and I want to get to bed because on New Year's Eve I have to stay up ALL FRICKIN' NIGHT to redecorate and paint my sister's room as a birthday gift.)

HAPPY NEW YEAR, one more time!

A present back to _me_ could easily be a review or this story creeping under your favorite's list. :D Hehe

_COMING LATE 2008 or possibly sooner…_

_T/Hr's byHermioneGranger47393:_

'_Sense and Sensibility'_

_and…_

'_Salt and Sugar'_


	12. Starting to Get to Me

_Disclaimer: _No person to give credit to… back to the same old 'I don't own Harry Potter'…

_Either Hermione was trying to avoid Tom; Tom was trying to avoid Hermione, or both. _

_Hermione woke up on January first with her head stinging and every sound multiplied in her ear. She wasn't sure if she had only had a couple of butterbeer, or if she had drunken a barrel of firewhiskey. But she remembered reaching for glass after glass and becoming somewhat dizzier…_

_Her eyes opened with some difficulty, and Hermione saw that she was not even on the Head Boy couch, she was on the floor, and with great strength, she pulled herself off the floor and headed blearily towards the bathroom._

_What had happened? She didn't remember anything, really, except maybe dozens of Slytherins cheering and celebrating and kissing each other when the clock struck twelve…_

_Kissing each other? Where had that come from?_

_With a sigh of understanding, she very carefully took her face out of her hands and looked up at her reflection in the mirror._

It wasn't that Hermione was glad that the year was coming to an end, but she certainly wasn't gloomy like the rest of the Gryffindors.

There were the consequences and the positives when it came to leaving Hogwarts.

Working with a handful of Aurors ought to be exciting, and she would never have a moment where she could drift off into thinking about Tom. But was there really any people left to fight? There was of course some Death Eaters, desperate to build off of what Voldemort had steadily started – it was truly Bellatrix Lestrange running about the country trying to form together all of the former Death Eaters in her reach that were still alive and start a new group of evilness that would be in every person's nightmares to come.

But there was no longer a Voldemort to fight – no one really had to talk about 'You-Know-Who' or 'He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named', because he was gone… a phantom of mind and dwelling of the soul that everyone had to be shakily reassured themselves that Voldemort was really gone, since for some people, it was too good to be true.

_With more realization dawning on her, she had to simply accept the fact that she had kissed Tom last night, or Tom had kissed her, and there was no turning back the past._

_Or was there?_

_Voldemort had definitely traveled back in the past, and then his younger and unrecognizable self went into the future, and back again. In some weird way, there were plenty of ways to travel back and forth, all of them not easy and advanced and maybe even dark magic._

_Hermione burst out of the bathroom, throwing her robes over her head in frustration, and simply wanting to yell for Tom to get up on the bed._

"_Tom. _Tom._ Riddle, would you get up?!" Hermione shouted exasperatedly, throwing a pillow in his direction. He fiddled for the lamp next to his bed._

"_God, Granger, it has got to be around six in the morning!"_

"_You woke up at five in the morning just to trample out in the snow for potion ingredients!"_

"_That was quite different," He snapped shortly, groping for his robes as well. "Now is there a reason for you waking me up?" _

"_Yes. I–" Hermione sighed hesitantly before sitting down on Tom's bed and meeting his eyes – but Tom shot his head away the moment Hermione did so, suddenly very interested in a thread poking out of the end of his pants. "I need to talk to you about yesterday."_

"_I do remember vividly." He muttered distractedly._

_Hermione raised her eyebrows. "Even after you started swigging down firewhiskies?" _

_Tom's head shot up again, a loose strand of inky air slapping his forehead threatingly as his eyes flashed, and he held up a warning finger. "Hey! I drank _one_ bloody butterbeer, Granger, not meeting your highly amusing phrase of 'swigging down firewhiskies'. It'll be _ages_ until I touch those things again."_

"_Fine," Hermione snapped, rearranging herself on the sheets as Tom snatched up his Slytherin tie. "So after you had the butterbeer did you remember anything after that?"_

"_Of course, Granger, am I walking with memory potions in one hand and a wooden cane in the other?" He asked icily, sarcasm dripping from his voice._

"_Shut up, I'm trying to ask you something."_

"_It certainly seems so, you begun this conversation half an hour ago." He said wearily, pinning his Head Boy badge to his robes._

"_I started this conversation five minutes ago!" Hermione said defensively, and he seemed to snort quietly._

"_Well, then, get a move on."_

"_If you remember everything last night, tell me what you did at midnight." Hermione demanded, her eyes narrowed._

_Tom's face turned impassively towards hers after a five second wait. "I kissed you."_

_Hermione's eyes grew wide. Of all the answers, of all the denials and the excuses, she would not have expected him to be this out-front and emotionless._

With the pamphlets that had been handed out in fifth year spread out in front of her on the Gryffindor coffee table, Hermione distractedly murmured to herself the requirements for a healer from one _St. Mungos _pamphlet, and compared it to the Auror pamphlet. Ron's freckly hand shot out of nowhere and grabbed a Ministry pamphlet.

"Ron, put that back down, this is all organized," Hermione snapped, flipping over to the back of a Gringott's pamphlet. "Besides, when will you ever work for the ministry?"

Ron bent lower to read the covering of the Gringott's pamphlet. "When will _you_ become a banker?" He asked quizzically, looking casually through the Auror pamphlet.

"Ron, this is no game. We're about to graduate; it's time to truly think about what you're going to do with the rest of your life. You need to really process the information and look over the consequences of future jobs – or just turn into a Muggle."

"_And I suppose that was just the butterbeer acting?" Hermione asked, looking quizzically for a loophole._

"_No." Tom said absentmindedly, not loosing her gaze, making Hermione immediately want to blink them away._

"_Then why in holy Merlin's beard did you do it?" Hermione said irritably._

"_Because I wanted to, Hermione."_

"_It was nothing impulsive then?" She asked suspiciously._

"_I'm not impulsive. But I admit it was a little foolish, for me to push aside my better judgment and all." Tom mumbled, pulling on his socks._

_Hermione's eyes flashed – feeling a stab of betrayal._

_She let out a forced and stiff laugh. "Um. Your – your better judgment?"_

"_Yes."_

"_So kissing me was against your better judgment?" Hermione said infuriately._

"_I have a life ahead and so do you, and while we may travel along the same path for some time, we'll split off soon enough. I know what you do in the future. You kill the evil, you try to diminish the darkness and rid the foul. I am among those, and therefore, colliding would not be a good idea. Besides, you know how much of a reputation it would be? For my followers, I am not going to give up my plan of 17 years just for a mudblood."_

_Hermione's eyes flashed again, and with having half-anger and frustration, and half-desperation and hope, she lunged at Tom, who still on the bed, and sent him crashing down on the array of pillows with her lips fiercely locking his mouth with hers._

Hermione was able to spend one of her last days around the warm and humid outside of the castle, the warm breeze whipping at her hair, with the only thing better for her to do was to regain all the memories she could and trip along the mud and dirt, collecting flowers along the way.

She was passing the lake, the image of Harry breaking the surface and gasping for breath, with a pale and wet Ron and a young girl clutched in both of his hands, as he dragged them up and had Hermione run towards him with her congratulations and mumbles of hoarse praise coursing through her brain. So many things she wanted to keep with her for the rest of life, so many moments… but there were always the things she wanted to forget forever.

_Hermione drew her mouth away softly after three seconds, giving about enough times for a flustered Tom to respond, which of course, he didn't._

"_I stand by my principles, Granger." He said firmly._

_Hermione smirked. "Yes, of course, Riddle. I would love to hear your principles. It's hard enough having to be around you all day, either when you're shouting or even grinning slightly because even _sometimes_ you can't help it. You try to hide the times when you laugh and when you smile, but I notice all of those things, which I really shouldn't. But I do, and I can't spend one freaking hour not going over them in my brain! But your helpless and stubborn and egocentric, and I push all of those things aside to see who you really are – because under greed and evil, you're the person who I'm falling in lo–" Hermione stopped her rather loud ranting, resisting the urge to run out of the room in embarrassment and sobs. She continued in a quiet whisper. "I-In love with." She finished, eyeing her shoes tentatively._

_Tom obviously was promptly arguing with himself whether to comfort Hermione, kiss her in reassurance, or just run and deal with nothing since she would have calmed down with. With a swift move, he had gently gathered her arms into his and gave her a soft hug, in which she tried to find comfort in, flinging her arms around his neck and crying profusely into his shoulder._

She passed the Whomping Willow, looking as deadly as ever, and Hermione's mind wandered to the time when they had first met Sirius face to face, where Ron had been pulled into the Whomping Willow by the massive dog and Hermione and Harry desperately tried to go after him.

She sighed onto the soft grass below her feet, and she kicked a rock out of the way as she thumbed a single tear away from her face.

"I've cried so many times this year," Hermione told herself stubbornly. "About the downfall of the most evil wizard of our time, and the fact that he's dead, but when something actually upsetting is here to cry about…" Hermione tilted her head down, watching one more single tear fall off of her face into her outstretched and waiting palms. "There are no tears left…" She finished softly, giving one more sob helplessly.

_He might have held her there for an hour, maybe more, but all he knew was that he held her until he actually saw the sun setting, skipping his meals and his classes just to hold her until her crying stopped, and she was gently falling asleep on his shoulder. Tom was halfway thinking about what a waste of time he just suffered, and halfway of thinking of how careless and gentle she looked when she slept. Pulling off her shoes and robes, he dropped her carefully down on his bed, her scent stinging his robes still after._

_Tom can smell the scent of cinnamon, the pines needles of a Christmas tree, and the refreshing smell of old pages from books that she poured over so often. He wanted to slap himself, for savoring her smell, because for Heaven's Sake, he is a Slytherin! A descendent of Salazer Slytherin himself – and him – him, fall for a muck of dirt that never even knew anything about the magical world until she was eleven – it was a disgrace! _

_But maybe he would worry about that later. Maybe he would confront himself when he would have the courage, because now, in the world of her and him – nothing mattered and nobody needed to know._

_But Hermione wanted everyone to know._

There were many phrases Hermione told herself in the past, things she would murmur in her brain to remind of the right and wrong and the things that are true and false, things that separate the decisions of what is right and what is easy.

And right now, for the first time, she wanted to do what was easy over what was right.

She never read a shortcut to a potion – she always did it the right way no matter how much harder she would have to work, how many more ingredients she would need, and how much more time she would have to supply.

She never copied homework or gave someone answers last minute.

She never even slipped down into the kitchens and asked for food since she was so desperately hungry from one Herbology class, because it wasn't _right_.

But now, she just wanted to do the easy and forget about the right.

_And Hermione almost forgot – as Tom softly lay down next to her, that she shouldn't lose herself in something so risky. Something so very dangerous – something where there is no guarantee – no promise – and something where she knew she would fall so much that she knew she could never get up again._

_And, with Tom carefully stroking the hair away from her forehead as she slept, she forget the one thing she remembered so very importantly. _

_It is not wise to dwell on dreams and forget to live._

And Hermione had to tell herself, that it wasn't wise to dwell on dreams and forget to live.

_AN:_ Hello, I hope everyone had a good New Year, even though it doesn't feel like it… Anyway, this is for my sister, her birthday is in two days – January 4th! She'll turn nineteen – she is actually writing here – SarcasticCapricorn is her name, writes T/Hr, too, but it's been a while since she has actually written one that isn't OOC! Anyway, Happy Birthday to her and Happy New Year to you!

About that, you guys really should let me know when your birthday is, so updates can come across those days… _wink_. Lastly, this is just because tomorrow, January 3rd, is when the new season of one of my favorite TV shows comes out, _Beauty and the Geek_. If you join my love for the show, I'd love to talk to you about it – along with book seven of HP, named the 'Deathly Hallows', and the Sims 2 PC game. All this stuff I'd love to talk about and more, of course, because if I'm not writing or reading I'm practically bored stiff. Now that the New Year is over, everything is gloomy again because of no more holidays – and Winter Break will be coming to an end – which means – ugh, slower updates. But Target, to my horror – already has Valentine's Day decorations up. :O

Two problems I've discovered with That annoying 'fanfiction go fish' popup or whatever CONSTANTLY gets in my way – does it happen to you?

And, I'm not getting reviews from my email anymore – which they always did. I have to check the site to see if there are new reviews… Does it happen to you?

Lastly, a little gift for you guys – I ran across is just the other you look at the videos, they're AWESOME.

R&R!

Review Replies:

_MiKaYGiRl_: I have fully memorized your name – cheers! – and now I can thank you for your review. Yes, now the suspense comes in! Finally – the awkwardness is gone, and now the fun and drama can start! I've been waiting for this and hopefully you have too! Happy New Year!

_Betrayed Innocence_: I don't know if you've reviewed before, but thank for doing so anyway! It's so much fun to see more and more people finding interest in Tom/Hermione, it's such a fun ship to write with so many depths! Anyway, Happy New Year, and review on, please!

_Mrs Pierre Bouvier_: Oh, thank you! Hope you had a happy New Year – whereas, I – had to stay up all night to redecorate a room XD. Well, you did give me advice, didn't you? If you want to be mentioned again, give me an idea for Valentine's Day, I don't know what I'm going to do!! Sorry – but Hermione/Goyle? Um – I don't generally read that – what gave you the idea to do so, just curious…? Anyway, thanks for letting me know that this is one of your favorite stories; it makes me feel so honored!!

_JuliaKerns5_: Do I really have to put you into this file now that we're emailing each other constantly:D But thanks for reading, can't wait to write more and for more reviews – they're the best presents I can get! (My other resolution is to learn how to play chess!)


	13. Under Control

_Disclaimer_: If my name would be J.K. Rowling you'd be the first to know. For now, I don't own anything.

_Not that Hermione cared, but was simply flustered when she woke up on the next morning with the only thought in her head being that she had cried herself to sleep, almost, with nothing more than haunting thoughts swarming her mind._

_She woke up the next morning in a _bed_… A rather soft – unnaturally green bed…_

_And only then she remembered that she was back in the world of 1940 and she couldn't do anything to stop that._

_She wanted to turn around and cry even harder into the velvet pillow, but Hermione knew that she had to get up and leave this bed if she would want to do anything._

_Much to her horror, on the end table next to her was an array of a first-class breakfast items were spread out royally on the black wood, almost color-coordinated, she realized, as her eyes flickered among the treats._

_Grabbing for a sesame bagel, she left the rest of the breakfast behind – and made her way to the bathroom._

_She didn't know what time it was, or where in Merlin's beard Tom was, perhaps at class – she really didn't have a clue as to what time it was._

"_Tom?" She asked hesitantly into a crack into the door. There wasn't a response and she stepped softly in._

_She undressed quickly, threw on her bathrobe, and filled the tub with soaking hot water. _

_Adding a small essence of bubbles from a glass bottle, she gently let the soft silk robe slide off of her shoulders._

_Her foot was halfway in the tub when she heard the lock click and her head snapped forward in shock, but was too late to do anything._

_Tom stepped into the small bathroom, and upon eyeing Hermione naked body, his eyes widened and he yelped in shock, hitting his back on the door behind him, immediately, covering his eyes with his hands firmly and turning around to face the wood._

_Hermione shrieked, grabbing for the robe on the ground and throwing water everywhere with her foot. Her nimble fingers tied a not on the front of her bathrobe hastily. Tom still didn't turn._

"_Tom? You can turn around now." She whispered slowly._

Hermione walked over to the dark and deep looking lake and stumbled slightly around the rocks and sat down at the edge. She took off her shoes and socks, laying them neatly on a large gray boulder-like rock next to her. Hitching up her skirt, she lowered her feet into the surprisingly gentle warmness of the lake. She could close her eyes here.

"Hermione, what are you doing here?" A soft voice asked, and out of shock Hermione turned so quickly that, with a shriek, she fell into the lake completely, fumbling for the surface as she rose again, spluttering out water.

"R-Ron? Is that y-you?" She gasped, wiping water out of her eyes as she blindly climbed onto the rocky landing, dripping. She had cut her ankle on the sharp rock edge.

A large hand grasped her sopping elbow and pulled her up firmly.

"What in Merlin's beard were you doing?" Ron's unmistakably voice asked her quizzically. She spotted a sudden glow of red next to him. Ginny had obviously accompanied his search for Hermione.

"We were looking for you all over the castle," She said worriedly, bending down to pick up her socks and shoes for her. "Oh dear. I don't remember any drying spells."

Hermione shook her hair out of her forehead breathlessly. "Doesn't matter, I needed a shower anyway."

_He slowed revolved on the spot, but his hands were still determinedly over his eyes._

"_Are you completely covered up?" He asked in a deadly whisper._

_Hermione surveyed herself quickly before answering. "Yes, you can lift your head now." She said reassuringly._

"_Are you sure?" Tom asked stubbornly, and Hermione impatiently yanked his hands away from his eyes._

"_Honestly, now!" She cried indignantly, waving an impatient hand. "Am I _that_ hideous?"_

_Tom's face changed swiftly, a look of sharpness snapping into his features. "I never said that and don't you dare think that." He snapped sharply, and Hermione couldn't help smiling._

"_Tom–" She began calmly._

"_No, it's fine, I'll leave you to privacy – I just wanted to ask you – I wanted to tell you – never mind, it doesn't matter–" He basically thought out-loud. "I'll – erm – see you later, when you're – uh, dressed–" He finished uncomfortably, leaving without another word, leaving Hermione gaping open-mouthly at the closed door._

"You'll catch a cold if you walk all the way back to the castle like this." Ron snapped stubbornly.

"Fine." Hermione snapped back, and performed a non-verbal drought charm on her clothes. She took her shoes and socks from Ginny.

"Why were you out here?"

"Just relaxing, thinking about out entire time here." Hermione said carefully, pulling on her clothes.

Ron shifted uncomfortably on his feet. "Yeah. I – I've been thinking about that too. I guess we all have." He said sulkily.

"We'll all have a future Ron, don't act like it's the end of the world." Hermione shot sharply at her, and beckoned Ginny forward, hearing Ron shuffling after them.

_But instead of getting into the tub, she took out her wand and dried up the water, and putting her robes back on stubbornly, disappearing out of the bathroom in a determined mind to catch Tom and wherever he went._

_She snapped on her watch when she left the Head Boy room, seeing that it was well past ten, and therefore everyone would be in class. Heading down to the common room, she realized that Tom started class at ten, too, instead of nine like everyone else – so she had missed him anyway._

_Sighing, Hermione slumped down onto a couch, when all of sudden she heard a continuous and impatient tap from one of the small windows at the top of the wall. She reached up, opening the window with her wand (because she couldn't reach it with her hand) and a black owl soared in, bearing a letter marked: _Tom Riddle

_Curiosity taking over her, she clutched at the letter and the owl took off at once. Carefully peeling off the wax to replace it later (as though she had never touched it) Hermione slipped out the letter and read scribbly black ink letter._

Mr. Tom Riddle _–_

I hope you realize that since I am quite a stranger to you that illegal business trade would be quite out of my range of usual business to attend to. Therefore, I am afraid I will have to decline your request of half a dozen 'valerian eggs' imported from China.

I am deeply sorry that I was not able to fulfill your request.

The best of regards and wishes to you,

&&&&&

Hermione cursed at the cliché moment of the fact that the name had been smudged from hurried writing and blotches of ink appearing randomly on the page. All together, though, this was for the potion that Tom was still at large concocting, but he obviously couldn't continue without having these 'illegal trade valerian eggs imported from China'. 

_A sudden surge of smugness suddenly swelled in Hermione's chest; she could turn Tom in for this – ordering illegal items from all around the world. One part of her wanted to go straight to Dippet and confess, but another part wanted to keep this her own secret and keep this under Tom's safety, because this wasn't her letter anyway. _

_She replaced the envelope over the letter and decided to drive the valerian eggs out of her head by taking a short nap._

"We have Astronomy with Sinistra in one hour, I better clean my 'scope." Ron mused, catching up with the two girls. Hermione's eyes glanced over to her watch. It would be getting dark soon; she had gotten rather caught up in time.

"What dirtied your _telescope_?" Ginny asked scoffingly over her shoulder.

"Just dropped it, that's all, now can we get a move on?"

_She woke up with Tom grinning unnaturally 'smirkily', smugly glancing over to the figure of Hermione reading _'Hogwarts, A History'_ idly on Tom's bed. He sat down at the foot of the sheets, pushing the book down a bit to see Hermione's face._

"_Had a rough day?" He asked unusually polite._

_Hermione eyed him suspiciously before putting her book onto the end-table next to her._

"_No… By the way, you got an owl. The letter's still downstairs." Hermione said casually._

_Tom's brows furrowed into frown for a moment._

"_What was it about?"_

_Hermione laughed stiffly. "Tom, I don't read _your_ mail." She answered loftily, grabbing for her book again._

"_Want something to drink?" He asked quietly, and Hermione nodded indolently. _

_Her book was pushed out of her hands for the second time and a small glass of water was thrust into her hand instead._

"_Thank you." She said quietly, but instead of drinking, placed the glass on the end table unceremoniously._

"_What's wrong?" He asked immediately. "Why aren't you drinking?"_

_Hermione's brows furrowed skeptically. "What's it to you?"_

"_Nothing." He muttered, and seeing Hermione's hand going for her thick novel, put a hand on her wrist to stop her._

"_What?"_

"_I wanted to–" Tom sighed. "–apologize for, erm, running in on you this morning. I really didn't know you were there in – uh, _that form_, of course–"_

_Hermione splayed two fingers across his mouth and shook her head. One hand curled fingers around the water glass on the table._

"_You didn't mean to, it was an accident," She brushed aside soothingly. "Now is that all?" She added impatiently. _

_Tom edged closer to her on the bed. He smiled._

"_Drink." He encouraged in a whisper suddenly, and this time Hermione sipped a small gulp._

"_Mmhm. Something else to say, Tom?"_

_He frowned._

"_You didn't take a bath today after-all." He observed, still frowning. Hermione lowered the glass from her lips. _

"_What?"_

"_You didn't take a bath, did you?"_

"_How can you tell?" Hermione asked curiously._

_Tom's head snapped back into focus, and he leaned back on the bed._

"_Nothing…" He said in a rather unconvincing voice and pushed a loose strand away from his face._

"_Seriously, Tom? Why do you even care?"_

"_I told you, nothing, really. It's just – well, drink." He finished lamely, and Hermione sipped tenderly at the glass. _

_Suddenly an unexpected surge to turn Tom over to Dippet from the evidence of the letter surged through her again. It vanished a second later. She sipped again._

"_Anything wrong?" Tom asked her sternly, and she realized that she was scowling. _

"_No…" Hermione replied in the same unconvincing and dull voice he had used earlier. She sipped slowly at the glass, emptying it this time, and felt an anger so strong inside her that she almost wanted to lean forward and punch Tom in the face. A memory of Tom imperiusing her, asking her questions about Harry, walking in on her in the bathroom –_

_In an impulsive and very sudden movement, Hermione's fist lunged forward and hit contact with the side of Tom's face. He fell to the bottom of the bed, a red bruise forming rapidly on his cheek. He was passed out._

_Color draining from her face, Hermione's hands flew up around her face, gasping at what she had done. Those memories… that – that punch – they were basically out of her control. She hadn't meant to do any of it now, the cold and greedy anger inside of her had thankfully vanished. She swallowed around a lump in her throat. Whatever she had done, Tom would get her back for it somehow._

AN: Yeah, what do you think? I'm starting to cut out the 'future' or basically 'present' part of the stories, they're getting rather uneventful and boring. Anyway, I know all of your heads are kind of in the clouds with this chapter, it might be confusing and stuff, but it will clear up in the next chapter. Thank all of you for wishing my sister a happy birthday, it was extremely fun all in all and she appreciated your consent. R&R please! (By the way, I had a really bad day today, so some reviews would be appreciated. I know there are some of you who read a story regularly and check for updates but never _actually_ review… you know who you are. Reveal yourself now, please!)

One more thing, just for her – my fanfic friend Julia has written a bunch of Remus/Sirius stories and I am encouraging them to everyone reviewing here because she has done so for my stories. I've read them myself, they're all oneshots, and they're all fantastic. Here's the link to her site, because oddly enough, if you type in her screenname or any of her stories into the search box nothing comes up. Anyway, here it is, for you bored and looking-for-something-different-deep-and-exciting-to-read people:

But since fanfic doesn't let me send in links, I'll say that you should go under my favorite author file and click on JuliaKerns5. All of her stories are awesome.

So, here's the reviewer file:

_MiKaYGiRl: _Thank you for reviewing, and I'm so glad that my fanfic email is working again. Imagine the surprise I got when I got a LOAD of reviews just all of a sudden in my email account. It was chaos. Anyway, thanks for wishing my sis a good b-day, it was fun but very odd, mind you, we spent half of the day playing this DVD 'eighties song game (can you name the song and the group?)' because she loves eighties. Oh, bother…

_JuliaKerns5_: I'm sooo happy you got an account even though this was a while ago (haven't updated in a while have I?) Well, thank you for REREVIEWING everything, you're too kind for you own good:D By the way, like the nudge I'm giving the readers to read your stories? Only because they're FANTASTIC am I doing it. ;P

_Emailia: _That's okay, we all have times when our computers are not very reliable. Thank you for the compliments I can't help smiling every time I read some!!!

_Mrs Pierre Bouvier_: Hope you didn't miss Beauty and the Geek; I had sooo much fun watching it and the new episode on Wednesday. (Can't wait for the makeovers next week!) You know, thanks for the 'addicted thing' it made me smile so much my sister thought I was daydreaming. Well, I basically collapse every time I get reviews. I love them too much! I told my sister about a very dedicated reviewer of mine reviewing her Barty story and she was rather ecstatic. You make people very happy, you know! So addicting! Well, I actually wanted to recommend a story to you. My friend Julia has an account and writes Remus/Sirius nonstop. She wrote a songfic after Six Pence's None The Richer song 'Kiss Me' with all these different RL/SB scenarios in it, it gave me so much inspiration even though I'm not an avid RL/SB shipper. All of her stories are really well written too, just for some advice. Go under my favorite authors and click on 'juliakerns5'  
Tell me if you read it!


	14. Understand

_Disclaimer_: If I owned Harry Potter do you really think I'd be writing fanfiction?

_Hermione went to sleep rather early, and rather horrified at what she had done to Tom. Sinking deep into the green pillows on the leathery couch, she fell into a rather restless sleep of some nightmares._

_Waking up with a guilty rock settling in her stomach, Hermione dressed quickly (not to find Tom barging in on her again naked) and before even pulling on her coat she realized that Tom was not in his bed._

_With another regretful weight stumbling into her stomach, she reasoned that he was probably in the hospital wing, explaining why she didn't have a waiting breakfast on the end table._

_Walking over to her shoes, she stopped – feeling a surge of sudden anger towards Tom powering through her again. Her foot slipped out of the shoe. What was going on with her?_

_Again, as if out of nowhere, a creature seemed to roar inside her stomach, frustration of Tom's figure popping back into her mind. She sat down. Hermione wanted to punch someone again – Tom, mostly. A hate so livid and a loathing so deep was forming inside herself and rising slowly._

_What had –_

_She gasped out loud, upon seeing the empty glass of supposed water that Tom had given to her the day before. It glinted innocently in the light, the drained glass glittering. Hermione rushed over to it, dipping the last few drops desperately onto her hand._

A hate potion_. For her, no doubt, she realized, washing her hands in the bathroom and slamming the glass back down again. What in the world was he doing spiking a water glass with a hate potion? It deserved him right, that punch –_

_She heard the Head Boy room door open and rushed to see who it was._

Hermione readjusted her telescope before placing it carefully on its tripod. Ron, next to her, was fiddling with the lens, cursing under his breath. She could still feel Professor Sinistra's eyes on the back of her head.

Looking through at the stars, Hermione could loose herself in this blue abyss. Occasionally marking something on her practice star chart, she finally heard Ron break his lens. Sighing, she tore herself away from the glittering stars.

_Tom was slumping in, a fairly large and purple bruise on the side of his face. He turned to face her as she rushed out of the bathroom, her hands still soaking, the empty glass still in her hand, and her hair still flying slightly behind her._

_There was a few moments silence. _

_Hermione burst into an angry rant._

"_Tom Riddle! You spiked this glass – supposedly full of water! How _dare_ you try and trick me, that bruise on the side of your face is clearly what you deserve! You foolish, greedy, egocentric wizard–" Hermione started, but Tom held up an impatient hand._

"_Hermione. I have a bruise the size of a cauldron on my face. Would you let me explain?" He asked impatiently._

_Hermione's hands lowered, and the only sound was the _dripdrip_ from the water on her hands._

"_Thank you," Tom said quietly. "Now. I don't deny that I spiked the water with hate potion. If the plan would have worked correctly, you would of course not have been affected by it that fast, and I would not have been punched. But, a hate potion of course would _never_ fully work properly without valerian eggs." He concluded._

"_Valerian eggs?" Hermione repeated, fazed. "Is a hate potion what you've been busy brewing these past few weeks?"_

_Tom hesitated into silence for a few moments. "No. I'll be honest."_

_Hermione had given up asking what he was brewing secretly, and continued to another question. "But why–" She sank down onto the bed, almost crestfallen. "Why did you give me a hate potion, Tom?"_

_He looked down at his feet before sinking onto the bed too. "Because – because you were distracting me. You told me a few days ago that you were f-falling in love with me and – well, it was sort of a vice versa situation. Somehow that kind of pushed me over the edge–" He said almost nervously._

"_Y-You love me?" She asked incredulously. _

"_Well, not to make it sound deep or anything, but I suppose so–" Tom said hurriedly, but continued on. "If I loved you, you would create a sort of barrier between me and my – er, future. So, a hate potion would be the perfect–"_

"_Solution." Hermione finished for him, disgusted._

"_It was nothing against you, I just needed for you to be out of the way, that's all." Tom finished ashamedly. _

_Hermione stood up from the bed, revolted, and walked swiftly out of the Head Boy room into the common room, leaving Tom alone on the bed._

"Clean up your telescope, Weasley!" Professor Sinistra hissed quietly, whipping out her wand and dispersing of the mess. Ron flushed into the moonlight before fumbling in his bag for a new lens.

_Hermione didn't see Tom for the rest of day, not that wanted to. During dinnertime she vanished into the bathroom for a nice, long, and relaxing bath to cleanse out her thoughts. After about half an hour of soaking in the tub, she heard the rumble of students returning into the common rooms and she pulled the plug dryly, changing back into her regular robes._

_The door to the bathroom opened the minute she reached for the handle, and out of surprise, she sent her fist flying in the direction of the door._

_Tom ducked quickly, and then slowly rose again._

"_Honestly Riddle!" She shrieked angrily. "Stop – trying – to – sneak – in – here! Would you knock?"_

"_I wasn't sneaking," He sneered, and shut the door behind him. "And nor was I ever trying to."_

"_Oh, didn't get a good enough glimpse earlier, did you?" Hermione roared, enraged._

"_No! Now would you _please_ stop that insolent screaming and come out?"_

_Hermione grimly looked at him. "And why would I do such a thing?" She asked loftily, and Tom scowled._

"_Now you need to listen to me." He snarled, and grasped her elbow tightly, steering her out of the bathroom._

"_Don't you act like–"_

"_Just – don't. I know what I did. I'm not proud of it."_

"_You gave someone a hate potion to ignore your feelings!" Hermione reeled._

"_You don't know what's it's like, do you? Being me, risking everything for the world. Don't act like I cooked this up five minutes ago, Granger, because I didn't, and when some mudblood suddenly enters my life I can't push seventeen years of planning aside for you!"_

_Hermione stood quietly. If she didn't something now, Tom would become evil and rid the world of everything ever dear to her. She could stop it now. She could kill him. She could torture him into forgiveness. But she didn't want to._

"_Tom–" Hermione began calmly, but Tom's face was determined and insulted._

"_Don't call me that." He said shortly, and shut the door in her face._

Author's note: Yes, thank you everyone for reviewing!!

I hope this clears up last chapter's little confusion, and if more reviews come I'll try to update tomorrow since it is weekend. I've already started on chapter 15, so it might come today (but doubtfully) but probably tomorrow. The person who is the hundredth reviewer will get a cookie. :Grin: Anyway, please R&R!

Reviewer file:

_Heatherness2134_: Uh, thanks, but Hermione has stayed the same the entire time. I heard you reviewed Julia, yay for you! Keep on reviewing.

_Julia_: I'm not calling you by your screen name anymore, Julie, it's pointless! But you already now what's happening in this chapter, so this isn't new, except for the last bit. Remember to email at 7:00 on Wednesday, Beauty and the Geek is on and I want you to see it!!! So glad for your bonus, too, and I'll review your stories as soon as I get the opportunity to. :D

_Tom Riddle's Reluctant Bride_: I couldn't believe it, you reviewed 2 minutes after I updated!! Thank you, it was really kind and surprising! I hope your questions have been answered and I'm sorry for not updating 'ultra soon' but I will this time (read the author's note)

_Mrs. Pierre Bouvier_: I know!! But I had to change Tom during the middle of the story, or it would just be 'bickerhatebickerloathe' all the way through. (Just to say, I hate slash as well, but she writes really well. If not, she even reviewed this kinda funky HP/HG, but not to seem greedy.) keep on reviewing, please, you're the most dedicated one here!

_MiKaYGiRl: _I have still memorized your cApSlOcKy name! Keep on reviewing, I hope your questions are answered in this chapter!


	15. Poison

_Disclaimer_: I don't own Harry Potter or the characters.

_He had shut the door in her face. He had said goodbye to her so quickly. And once again, she felt very out of place._

_Hermione had stood there, rooted to the spot, until she could feel her eyes leaking dangerously. All she could do was brush away the tears and let herself cry until she was done, even though it seemed like it would never stop._

_Her hands were trembling and shaking. She was still sitting on his bed when the crying stopped and Hermione was swallowing around a lump in her throat._

_She loved Tom. Bloody Merlin's beard, she was in love with Tom Riddle. And he was, too. Well, he _used_ to, too._

_Hermione knew that Tom wouldn't try to talk or see her anytime soon, so she kept to herself and locked herself in the bathroom when dinner was over for the students. Hermione didn't have breakfast this morning; she was extremely hungry._

_There was a soft rap on the door and Hermione looked up from the toilet seat._

"_Who is it?" She asked in a strangely strangled voice._

"_Who do you think it is, Hermione?" A soft voice replied, and Hermione's eyes widened slightly._

_She was at the door in one step and had opened it in less than one second, and on the threshold stood Tom, looking extremely weary._

"_Can I come in?"_

_Hermione nodded, and held the door open wider. He sat down on the rim of the bathtub. Tom stared at Hermione for some time, and then broke into a short laugh._

"_This is ridiculous." He muttered, and Hermione looked onto her skirt._

"_Why?"_

"_Because I'm in love with you."_

"_Still?" She asked gently, and let her eyes wander up slowly. His eyes sparkled for a moment._

"_I'm not going to sound all tacky, but yes. And don't ask me about it."_

_Hermione stayed silent._

"_But I don't understand any of it," He sighed. "I don't emotions. Not beside anger, at least. If my past and my father taught me anything, it was never to trust anyone and never to feel any emotions."_

_Hermione's eyes flickered. "You killed your father." She whispered._

"_Yes I did." He said firmly, anger evident in his voice._

"_Nobody learns from the past, Tom."_

_His eyes flashed dangerously. "Well, I do. To me, the worlds getting sappier and more delicate with every second. Somebody should change the future, take a look at the past, get some perspective."_

"_That's rubbish, Tom."_

"_No, it's not. It's only true. And it's much against my belief to fall in love with you. All against my better judgment, really. I don't even know how it happened."_

_Hermione shifted uncomfortably. "Well, maybe it's time to fall out of it."_

"_Fall out of what?"_

"_Love. Your not the right person for it, Tom, just ignore it. I'll go. I'll leave."_

"_You'll do no such thing and I will never let you. Now if you're so eager to leave then you must not return my feelings." Tom snapped._

"_That's not true."_

"_Then would you say it?" Tom demanded quietly._

_Hermione's eyes met Toms. "I love you," She whispered gently. "Is that what you wanted to hear?"_

"_I don't know. Now do you want to just sit there or can I come over there and kiss you?"_

_Hermione smiled sweetly, laughing openly, until Tom broke into a grin and crossed the bathroom to where she was sitting, holding out his hand to help her up._

"Is this all?" Hermione asked playfully, seeing Tom dump some breakfast onto her end table.

"_I'm already letting you use my bed, you ungrateful little–"_

_Hermione smiled more broadly and put two fingers over his lips._

"_I know all of your graciousness, thank you, so can we move on?"_

_Tom scowled. "First, though–" he took out a familiar thick notepad and flipped it open, making Hermione's mouth fall open. "–I would like to get some more information."_

_Hermione gazed open-mouthly in his direction, and he smiled falsely. She took her hand and closed the notebook over his expectant and ready-to-write fingers, shoving it away._

"_You'd think that after all of this I wouldn't have to do this."_

"_Just because this might have happened doesn't mean that my plan should go unheeded." He reasoned, opening the notepad again._

_Hermione continued to frown unbelievingly. "No," She said firmly, and Tom's face darkened. "No. Enough with this plan, Tom, you can't _possibly_ go through with it."_

"_But I will."_

"_Then without me."_

_His scowl become pronounced. "Actually, you will."_

"_Not today. Not now. Not in _this_ condition–"_

"_So if I break up with you will you stop being so stubborn?" He said playfully, smiling, and Hermione let a smile break out onto her face as well. She snatched the pad from Tom's hand and chucked it toward her old bed; the couch._

It seemed clear the next day that Tom wouldn't drop the notepad even though they were officially together. She could stall him for a few hours until he smacked her over the head with and she fell into fits of laughter, giving in finally.

"_I think this is ridiculous, did I voice that thought before?" Hermione interjected slowly._

"_Yes, you did. But you're done for today."_

_Hermione waited until he left the room to frown. She couldn't shake off the feeling that Tom was _using_ her, that he _didn't_ love her, and that he was basically feeding her poison – hard, cold poison as this all happened. She wanted to give it up and leave, because she couldn't trust Tom fully. She couldn't trust Lord Voldemort. Every time she looked at him, the grown-up and evil version of him flashed before her eyes._

_He was feeding her poison. So much that Hermione felt as though every time she talked to him, he was feeding off of her soul, every time she had to feed information about Harry over to him, she felt disloyal and dizzy, and every time he touched him she would have to shudder, and every time he kissed her it too much of a daze of light and flickers of images – _

_He was feeding her poison. _

Author's Note: No more present-day stuff, it gets boring when there is so much more to see in the past. So Tom and Hermione are finally together, but… DUN DUN DUN… she feels disloyal and awful. After my favorite Groove Coverage song, I'm including lyrics.

Reviewer File:

_katrin4p_: Thanks for reviewing even though you only had a few questions that I _hopefully_ answered with that private message. Please review more:D

_MiKaYGiRl_: Thanks again, it's getting interesting, and thanks for reviewing last time! More questions, eh?

_Tom Riddle's Reluctant Bride_: Thanks for reviewing. As everybody knows, of course, Tom Riddle is an EXTREMELY bad case of 'horrified past' and therefore is emotionless and impassive, going to great lengths to avoid feelings and avoid them being brought to him. Having Hermione be his 'dark queen' never would really serve her purpose, since he independent and probably won't need to fall in love with her anymore, since she is, after all, a mudblood to him and someone who is quite on the good side. Nevertheless, he is impassive and hence would not want to have more people by his side.

_Julia_: Hey, can't wait for two days time! Hope you check this out the moment you can!

Poison:

Your cruel device  
Your blood like ice  
One look could kill  
My pain, your thrill

_I wanna love you but I better not touch  
I wanna hold you but my senses tell me to stop  
I wanna kiss you but I wanna too much  
I wanna taste you but your lips are venomous poison_  
_You're poison running through my veins  
You're poison, I don't wanna to break these chains_

_Your mouth so hot  
Your web, I'm caught  
Your skin so wet  
Black lace on sweat_

_I hear you calling and it's needles and pins  
I wanna hurt you just to hear you screaming my name  
Don't want to touch you but you're under my skin  
I wanna kiss you but your lips are venomous poison  
You're poison running through my veins  
You're poison, I don't wanna break these chains  
Poison_

_Running deep inside my veins  
Poison burning deep inside my veins  
One look could kill  
My pain, your thrill_

_I wanna love you but I better not touch  
I wanna hold you but my senses tell me to stop  
I wanna kiss you but I wanna too much  
I wanna taste you but your lips are venomous poison  
You're poison running through my veins  
You're poison, I don't wanna to break these chains  
Poison_

_I wanna love you but I better not touch  
I wanna hold you but my senses tell me to stop  
I wanna kiss you but I wanna too much  
I wanna taste you but your lips are venomous poison  
You're poison running through my veins  
You're poison, I don't wanna to break these chains_


	16. Not Available

_Disclaimer_: I don't own Harry Potter.

"_Do you think that anyone would judge you?"_

"_Of course."_

"_You don't have to tell anyone I'm muggleborn. I'm brilliant enough to be pureblood."_

"_Yes, but you just popped out of thin air in here?"_

"_I basically did."_

"_Very clever, Granger."_

_Hermione laughed, her arms tight around her drawn-up-against-her-chest-knees, furled up in the common room chair. The leather prickled at her skin._

"_Do they know that you're a half-blood?"_

"_No," Tom's eyes flashed for a moment. "And they are not _going_ to find out, am I clear??"_

_She smiled. "Have any of our secrets leaked out before?"_

"_Our life is only secrets, how could they leak?" Tom remarked dryly, getting up from the couch. "C'mon, are you coming?"_

"_When do the houseelves usually come in here, do you know?" Hermione asked interestedly._

"_Around midnight," Tom said darkly, holding out a hand to help her up. "I was working in here once when they barged in on me… that was not very fun. Having lemonade being constantly offered to me in that annoying squeaky voice and then that feather duster is prancing all around the common room–" _

"_Excuse me, those elves are under unfair treatment and enslavement of wizards and witches which take advantage of this enslavement!"_

_Tom looked down quizzically at her. "What are you going after?"_

_Hermione stopped her wrath for a moment. "Oh. You never heard about S.P.E.W."_

"_Spew?"_

"_No! It's S.P.E.W., or the Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare!"_

_His face cracked a smile as he steered her up the stairs._

"_Yeah, enough with that."_

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::_  
_

_Hermione laughed in her situation, the common room lighting up as Tom smiled a little. Everything seemed to be perfect; but Hermione couldn't shake off the feeling that something was going to go wrong. Tom felt her body tense and her fingernails digging into his arm. He tightened his hold on her._

"_Something wrong?"_

"_No." Hermione answered immediately, burying her face in his neck for comfort. He stroked her hair but pushed her shoulders to arm length._

"_Are you sure–"_

_Suddenly the door hurtled open and Hermione shrieked in surprise as she was thrown off of Tom – staggering backwards as he whipped out his wand._

_Harry stood slightly disheveled and windswept, barely casting one look at Tom before staring stonily at Hermione. She could feel her face reddening and shame coursing through her body as only regret was thumping through her mind, now that she was here and displayed like this with Tom. Time seemed to have stopped, but she didn't dare look at Tom. She couldn't breath; her lungs were shriveling up, her eyes blinked. Her heart seemed to thump in her brain, and with a sudden, piercing pain, she regained consciousness._

"_Obliviate!" Tom shouted, and Hermione lunged forward screaming._

_But she didn't have the energy to do either. She swayed on the spot, rubbing her eyes and gulping quickly, with only one thought coursing through her mind: Why was he here, how did he get here, where did he come from? Why was he here?_

_Harry's eyes fell close, an expression of mingled shock and sternness still hanging in the air waveringly._

_She was halfway in between screaming, crying, and shouting at Tom. Harry's head hit the wall with a sickening 'crunch' almost in slow motion and Hermione's face fell immediately with disbelief – this finality struck her as her numb and limp fingers sheltered her face, watery spots forming on her palm, but her face stayed in her hand, keeping tears clinging to her lashes. Her knees gave way and she was left sitting in a crumpled heap on the floor._

_What seemed like forever later, she felt Tom's hand on her shoulder. Hermione still didn't lift her head._

"_Hermione?" Tom said impassively. Hermione shook her head in her hands. She couldn't cry in front of him. _

"_Hermione, look at me." He ordered, and Hermione shook her head again._

"_Hermione, _please_," He said in a softer tone, and Hermione gave in, dipping her head into his neck and slipping her arms around his shoulders._

_She talked sobbingly into his shoulder, between tears, making most of her speech unintelligible. _

"_Shh… Shh… Hermione, it was for the best." He said finally, stroking her back._

_Her head shot up immediately and looked at Tom with a fire blazing in her eyes as they flashed._

"_It was for the _best_?" Hermione repeated slowly, fazed._

"_Yes. You'll know, you'll see." Tom replied calmly, turning away, but Hermione gripped his arm. She wondered vaguely why she had just been hugging the boy who just gave her best friend a concussion that might damage the memory of his brain. She looked briefly over her shoulder at the limp-like corpse that was sitting in the corner. She shuddered._

"_I'll know and I'll see? Tom who do you think you are? Possessing me, secret potions, and blasting Harry Potter through a wall!" She thundered, her temper snapping._

"_You should know, Hermione, that I am still Lord Voldemort, no matter how much you try and change me. You should have realized that before you got so involved, because apparently your little infatuation and determination to hate me brought the 'other side of me' into your oblivion." He responded almost with equal anger. Tom whipped around to go again and she stomped after him._

"_Tom, I _love_ you!" She shouted._

"_Well, I love you, too!"_

_Faster than a second, in a swift moment, Tom had pressed his lips to hers and she had snaked her arms around his waist._

"_Are we even–?" He mumbled against her mouth, and she nodded mutely, even though both of their eyes were still closed and she pulled him closer._

"_You still might want to take care of that corpse over there."_

"_He doesn't add much to the decoration, does he?"_

"_No."_

"_Sorry about that."_

"_That's okay. Just promise me that won't _ever_ happen again."_

AN: Yeah, thanks, LIKE, NO ONE REVIEWED last time. So if you are here, and you didn't review last time, please do.

Okay, I saw the number of people who get alerts from when this is updated, and the number of people who have this story under their favorites, and I realized that basically all of you who do have this under your favorites or alerts don't even review! So… you know who you are. You're reading this right now. Just review please; I want to hear what you've got to say and who you are. Please. :D


	17. Let Go

_Disclaimer_: If I were JKR I would not be posting this here.

Hermione woke up with the unsettling feeling that something was going to go _wrong_. It was the same, uneasy, can't-shake-it-off feeling that she had gotten right before Harry had burst through the door. And she still didn't know why that had happened – how did Harry even get here? – he was supposed to be in the hospital wing because of the obliviating – but _that_ was in the future –

Hermione groaned into the pillow out of confusion.

But today was definitely not going to be a good day. She could almost feel it in the air and at her fingertips, but she wasn't going to grab it, or certainly not _ask_ for it. Hopefully if she just ignored it this day would be just another normal day – she just shouldn't _dwell_ on it, that was all.

She rose out of the bed, rather 'on-the-lookout' and walked into the bathroom, grabbing her clothes on the way.

Tom had obviously already headed out to breakfast, and perhaps she would find a small tray of a generous helping of breakfast foods arranging on the end table. Today was just another normal day.

Hermione brushed her hair and made her way out of the bathroom after she had dressed, and walked straight back to the bed where there was only a small glass or orange juice and a bagel.

Well.

_That_ was unexpected.

She picked up her food rather confusedly, staring at her undersized breakfast a little hungrily. She could just see how _small_ that bagel really was.

Today was just another normal day, Hermione.

After finishing her food, (which did not take a long time) she threw her cloak over her shoulders, tucking her wand in the inside pocket, and headed out into the common room. It was empty.

_Tom is probably still at breakfast_. Hermione told herself, grabbing one of the nearby books airily and flipping through its pages. _It's alright for him to take a little break in the morning. Stop thinking it's a bad omen_.

What was wrong with her? She was not superstitious, she did not believe in anything unproved for, she didn't believe in tealeaves or crystal balls or ridiculous, horrendous _bad luck_. It was just another normal day. A normal day.

Hermione couldn't focus on that book anymore, and shut it back away safely into its shelf. She heard the portrait creak and she looked anxiously at the door. It swung open, and a swish of black hair walked in. She sighed a sign of relief, and got up.

"Why weren't you there this morning?" She hissed a little venomously, her hair wild and her nostrils flaring. He raised his eyebrows.

"Excuse me? I went to _breakfast_."

"For that long?" Hermione shot back lividly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and folding her arms.

"Yes." Tom answered calmly, and went straight by her furious form up the dormitory stairs.

"_Tom!_" She exclaimed enragingly. Something was _wrong_, he doesn't ignore her like _that_.

"What?" He replied a little warily.

Today was just another normal day. "C'mon, Tom, you're totally–"

"Hermione, just lay off of it today." He whispered irritably, and trudged up the rest of the stairs a little dramatically. Her eyes bulged as she traipsed up after him again.

"_No!_ First you shoot Harry Potter through the wall, store his corpse in a _broom closet_, and then you start ignoring me. _You're ignoring me, Tom_."

He didn't stop. He walked straight into the Head Boy Room without looking back and slammed close the door. Hermione stood awkwardly in front of it.

Well, she wasn't going to _knock._

"Oh, Tom, this is _ridiculous_–" She said exasperatedly at the crack of the door, shaking the doorknob frustratingly.

The door burst open, Tom looking a little windswept and determined.

"Oh, shut up, Hermione," He shot vituperatively. "I-I'm leaving."

There was a silence where Hermione was about to shout at him, but she realized suddenly that she shouldn't over exaggerate the situation. This was normal Tom. This was just another normal day.

"W-What?"

"I'm leaving. I'm leaving _you_."

Hermione blinked, rather disbelievingly. "If you run away," She said rancorously. "Then I will run after you. I love you too much for you to do this. Just – _why?_" She asked helplessly, her eyes desperate.

"You know _why_, Hermione. The same reason it ever was–"

"You are not evil." She said maliciously.

"–I have a future waiting," He continued like she had never interrupted. "One I was only destined for. My childhood brought this out in me and it's only my personality. It is – it _was_ all planned out."

"No, it's not your personality, it's your choice–"

"Stop telling yourself that, Hermione." Tom dismissed firmly.

A scowl was on her face. She had been _foolish._ Foolish to fall into his charm and undeniable handsomeness, enough to be hurt – or even tricked or _used_. Hermione had been _used_. Today was _not _another normal day. Not at all.

"So we're over?" She asked with a stiff coldness, as if they were irritable in-laws disagreeing over tea.

"Yes." He answered awkwardly, still standing in the doorframe.

"And there's nothing I can do to change that?" Hermione asked with forced casualness.

"I'm afraid so." He said calmly, his eyes impassive and rather questioning.

She couldn't fight her tears at this finality, so expressive and evident in his voice. Hermione hastily wiped her eyes, _he _wasn't crying and she certainly couldn't cry in front of him, especially about _this_.

"So I s-suppose that this was a b-bet or something?" She stuttered, forcing herself to be pulled together. "That you wouldn't last one week with a… with a… m-mudblood?" She shrieked, sobbing uncontrollably.

"Stop." He commanded, and she promptly attempted to stifle her sobs.

"Oh, you stop it, Tom!" She snapped back, retrieving a tissue from her pocket and rubbing her eyes.

"I'm sorry." He said rather coldly, looking awkwardly and undisturbed at his feet.

"You don't mean that," Hermione shot at him spitefully. "Why did you do this in the first place, then? I thought you were clever enough to decipher what your consequences of your actions were." She said nastily.

Tom scowled. "You're bitter."

"What do you expect me to be, Tom?" She exploded loudly, her temper breaking as she glowered at him glaringly.

"Fine. Be upset." Hermione sighed. She wanted to scream, she wanted to shout at him for all her suspicions of what he had ever done or what he was doing to her. He was feeding her poison.

"Why are you doing this?" She whispered fearfully, almost desperately.

Tom looked at her carefully. "I have to." He finished, and stalked backwards to the door, closing it. It was the last glance of him – a swish of his cloak – before Hermione broke down completely. She sniffed.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

The comfort of knowing that Tom was finally on her side was comforting. Or it had been.

He had not been sweet, or her servant (not that she had expected him to be, she only hoped) and was the secretive boy Hermione had first identified him as, but it was good to know that she was not just being used. How gullible had she been.

She was disgusted.

For the first time in her life, she felt alone. Not even when no played with her at the playground, did she feel alone. Not even when everyone made fun of her at their first year at Hogwarts, did she feel alone.

Not even when both Harry and Ron left her because of broomsticks and rats, or some Bulgarian Quidditch player that accompanied her to the Yule Ball, did she feel alone.

Yet now, she felt alone.

And only because her ex-boyfriend, and possibly the most dangerous and murderous wizard of all time, had left her for the darkness of the world. She should _not_ have let herself fall for him.

She felt alone, empty, scared, misplaced, tricked, used, frustrated, foolish, incoherent, and useless for the first time in a long time.

Hermione tried to think that it was only because of the fact that she was currently friendless and in a place that only Dumbledore knew how to get her out of (besides Tom), and _nothing_ to do with the fact that she missed Tom terribly, since she shouldn't be feeling that about him anyway. Especially the point that she still loved him. A lot.

He was probably fine, since he never really cared about people anyway – _especially her_, she was sure – so the bright side was that she didn't have to worry about a rebound girlfriend or _any _future girlfriends, for that matter.

How could she have done this to herself? Jinxed herself foolishly into love with the sourest and most independent person on the _world_ which she and her friends back in 1977 despised and desperately tried to rid of?

She wanted to speak to him. But now he was dangerous. He had given up on squeezing information out of Hermione concerning Harry, but they weren't together anymore, either. There was a line too far away for crossing. Was she already in the 'hate' spot, thinly away from the line separating 'love'? She _had_ stopped him from his try of getting to Harry. She _was_ talking about him rather spitefully, rather cruelly.

Hermione felt forlorn and out-of-place in that Slytherin Common Room. How could she have ever felt comfortable in this dark place? Tom had made it feel so warm despite his own coldness…

Had he ever loved her? Or felt anything to her at _all_? Maybe it had just been another trick to get to Harry and that's why he had ended it so quietly without any emotion….

Hermione subconsciously whimpered. She got up briskly from the floor, hoping that if she left the common room, she would find a way out somehow.

She had stopped halfway there.

She had _nowhere_ to go, just like when she had first landed here. Now that all of this had happened, she would have even more trouble explaining this to Professor Dippet or Dumbledore. And Dippet highly respected Tom, as Hermione had learned from Harry in his sixth year when he had had lessons with Dumbledore. She would have to explain a boy named Harry Potter, some legends, a year 1997, and the darkest lord of wizardry that would be attempting to kill her best friend and possibly herself in some time – who is Dippet's most treasured student – and how he was sitting in the Slytherin Common Room right now.

Besides, by the time she would be halfway through explaining their expedition in the department of musters in the ministry when Tom would probably burst in, not that he could do much under the view of the headmaster… but how much influence would she have? She might not even get very far into explaining, Tom knew she was very smart, and would figure out that she left to tell the headmaster about this entire pandemonium after little or no time passed after he would realize that she wasn't in the common room. A redness of pressure (and the feeling of being trapped and a little stuck in a corner) was in her face now.

How _dare_ he didn't tell her how to leave! Did he honestly think that she wanted to stick around? She was stuck here, because Tom had to make a dramatic exit to rejoin his followers on the dark side… Oh, the little –

Hermione wanted to be _home_ more than anything. There was nobody to contact, they were all ahead of her… _years_ ahead… She didn't want to wait for the future to meet her time. But that might be her only way out to go.

That was the outlook. Such _bright_ outlook.

She didn't know where to go at all. Her voice was hitched somewhere in her stomach. She gulped. Her eyes closed, tears falling out.

She felt terribly, terribly lost.

So much for another normal, usual day.

_AN_: Sorry for such the long wait. My usual reviewers were not reviewing. But now they have, so this is continuing once again! By the way, I know that this is_ not_ in italics, but it is the past, and since it is ONLY the past, I thought that this would be fine.


	18. Turn Back Time

_Disclaimer_: If I was JKR do you really think that I'd be posting this here? I would _not_ be writing fanfiction.

Hermione woke up hours later, the darkness of black burning on her eyes, which seemed glued shut from tears. A crackling fire was burning behind her, she noticed, as her eyes immediately opened as she heard rustling of blankets.

"Miss Granger!" A squeaky voice shrieked, and Hermione knocked over the water glass on the coffee table, her feet falling off of the wood gently as well. She and a gray looming into view both screamed, and Hermione saw a light flicker on at the top of the stairs in the boys' dormitories. She cursed under her breath.

A candle was lit on the coffee table suddenly, as Hermione realized that the little fire remaining had gone out. Some embers still glowed eerily in the corner of her eye. Hermione snapped her head away to the figure that was now shining in the light.

A gray house-elf hovered over the light of the candle. The comforting crackling sound had been suddenly gone, and Hermione tried desperately to untangle herself from the blanket on her with the little light of the green candle.

"Blinky did not wish to frighten Miss Granger," The elf squeaked apologetically, it's dirty hands enclosed bonily around the candle.

"Oh, don't be sorry, Blinky!" Hermione whispered, sitting up.

"Miss Granger is too kind to Blinky and Blinky's mistakes." The elf said, her eyes swimming with great droplets of tears.

"What are you doing here?"

"Cleaning, Miss. Blinky was just about to stifle out the fire." Blinky announced immediately, picking up the glass shards from the cup Hermione had broken.

"_You_ clean the Slytherin Common Room?"

"Yes, Blinky always does. That Tom Riddle is almost always down here when I clean it," Her eyes softened even more and her face turned curious. "Mr. Riddle used to always talk about you."

"Did–"

But someone was coming down the stairs, so Hermione blew out the candle and Blinky whispered 'Goodnight, Miss Granger' without even cleaning up the rest of the common room. The portrait hole creaked shut again.

Tom was holding his lightened wand in the air, hopping down the last step. He stared at Hermione.

"What are you still doing here?" He asked without a hint of surprise in his voice.

Hermione gaped at him.

"What am I still doing here?" She asked incredulously. "You gave me _no_ instructions, Tom, absolutely no directions on how to leave – how am I supposed to find my way out?"

Tom stared at her. "_Nox_," He mumbled ad stepped forward, his pale face eerily illuminated in the shine of the moonlight that was flickering in the rays through the window. "Hermione, I don't want to be a paragon of virtue, but I have many duties around here, if you missed it. My _people_, if you would. I don't have time to instruct my useless people somewhere else." He said coldly.

"Tom, I'm not recycling garbage," Hermione stopped him shortly.

"I never recycled you."

"Oh!" Hermione said disbelievingly in a high-pitched voice. She walks around the couch to see him. "_Useless?_"

"Yes. You are and were quite useless to Lord Voldemort. We go through the same conversation every time, Hermione." Tom explained calmly.

Hermione snorted. "Fine, Tom. You become Lord Voldemort. But you will followed, tracked down, perhaps. And by me, too! How will it feel like, huh, to see me years later, when you're at your weakest (and let me say ugliest) point you've ever been at, and I'm still strong and fighting."

Tom smiled. "I don't think so, Hermione."

"Oh, I do–"

"There's a small, no, (let me say big) flaw in your plan. I revealed a bit too much because I had to, earlier, but nevertheless, I did. So you're staying here, until you'll be able to do something about it." He flashed a rather satisfied grin her way.

Hermione gaped at him again.

"But – you can't – you just can't – I have N.E.W.T.s, a life–"

He laughed with derisive laughter. "Hermione, I'm keeping you here forever and you're worried about _N.E.W.T.s_?" Hermione blushed even though it wasn't visible in the light.

"No – Riddle, you better bring me back–" She warned threatingly, whipping out her wand bravely even though she knew she was the one without any choice in this.

His wand was already by his side. "_Silenco_," He said calmly. "Now–"

Hermione's fury was bursting at the top right now, and with her skills of casting nonverbal spells, she sent Tom's wand flying out of his hand, hitting the staircase, while he was sent falling over the coffee table backwards.

Hermione would have laughed if she could, but the Silencing Spell was still acting on her. Producing the countercurse nonverbally, she was sent into a burst of laughter straight away. His embarrassed and flushed face arose from the floor, his foot twisted in a strange angle. "Bloody nonverbal spells." He muttered under his breath, and with one last nasty look to Hermione, he limped back up the stairs furiously.

"Smooth, Riddle."

_AN_: I know that this was short, but I don't have that much time to write a lot, but I just wanted it to sink in – ooh, ooh, SHE IS STUCK THERE!! Haha!! But of course, reviews are chocolate, so please do just click that little button down there and review. Bad or good. Btw, the next chapter will be much longer. Intense, too:D R&R, please please please with a story on top!


	19. Runaway

_Disclaimer_: I do not own Harry Potter.

Hermione knew that when she woke up that Tom and her would _not_ be on speaking terms. They were definitely on worse terms then they had been in beginning, even, because they had been together and apart. Evil tore them apart.

Without becoming somewhat _closer_ and more connected to Tom she would never be able to go back to the future. She was stuck.

And she was taking it oddly okay.

Hermione _should_ had been freaking out the night before, probably sending Tom bursting through the walls and _making_ him tell her how to go back. She wanted to runaway. All the lies he had ever told her – she wanted everybody that had ever followed his evil-like lead to know that he had even _considered_ a relationship with her. What would they think? They _would_ probably not believe her – Tom was too convincing.

She almost let out a scream of frustration and kicked the end table, thundering up the stairs and knocking as hard as she could with white knuckles on Tom's door.

"Yes?" Came the smug reply, and Hermione growled irritatingly into her mouth.

"Let me go." She growled threatingly, looking at him with burning eyes.

"We've had this talk, Granger." He dismissed wearily, and brushed past her to the staircase.

So. They were back to 'Granger'.

"Fine!" Hermione shot venomously, thundering down the stairs after him. "_Riddle_," She emphasized. "But what if I tell everyone what you did – a _mudblood_, Riddle."

Before she could continue her threat plan, she stopped, almost walking into Tom, as he whirled around with his sharp wand in her face.

"Even if you try," He warned fiercely. "You'll get the same as him." Tom said in an undertone, pointing toward the never-used broom cupboard where he had stored Harry. Hermione gulped.

"You can't threaten me."

"You just threatened me." Riddle shot back, and slipped his wand back into his pocket, grabbing a book off of the coffee table and brushing by her again to go up the stairs.

Hermione was almost paralyzed frozen at the thought before she turned around. "How _dare_ you! What kind of structure is your heart made out of, Riddle? To want such evil, it can't be reality–" But he had already vanished up the stairs.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

Hermione definitely hadn't gotten anywhere with her 'threatening' plan. But she couldn't just stay at Hogwarts – she could leave the school, and then find a way to runaway where she could actually find something to help her with time travel. The prospect was awful, to think about it.

She would have to take Harry with her. She couldn't leave his corpse in the broom cupboard to rot and never return to the future. She had definitely taken her time here – had time passed in the future?

This was so confusing. She would just have to grab Harry and go tonight, because she didn't come with anything anyway.

The thought of that evening was driving Hermione to hysteria. Tom hadn't even brought her lunch, only some small dinner portion that included salad and bread. Hermione didn't even complain when there were only two sips of pumpkin juice in her goblet. It didn't really matter to her. This was her last night of torture.

But it was hard, knowing that she would be leaving. She didn't want to tell herself lies, but she _had_ to. She might still be in love with Tom, but she couldn't be. Especially if she's leaving to kill him fifty years later. The last glance of him she would catch would be him in the common room, probably reading, or sending an owl to someone. The next time she would see him would be the Voldemort version years later.

But would her impact, this relationship, have done_ anything_ in the future for Tom? Would he still be evil and cruel?

Yes. He would forget about her. He's independent; he doesn't need a person to help him. His plans are in his head and in nobody else's. He doesn't need a Queen, or a partner, or a wife, for any cases. He broke up with her because he was too evil and because he _wanted _to be evil.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

By six in the evening, everything was bittersweet for Hermione. There was absolutely nothing to pack. By the time it was seven she was sitting on needles, but had gotten up to Tom, where he sitting on the couch. Smiling slightly she whispered into his ear:

"You should know, Tom, if you regret something now you won't be able to take it back, 'cause I'm definitely not going to fall for the hideous Voldemort you'll turn into." Laughing softly, she turned his face to meet her, touching his cheek, and kissing him for three seconds gently on the lips. She pulled away and hastily ran up the stairs, her hand touching her mouth.

Hermione pulled on her cloak, waiting in the bathroom until her watch beeped eight o'clock.

When she had sneaked back down the stairs, expecting to have to chuck a few dungbombs into the midst to leave discreetly, she was extremely surprised to see that it was entirely empty. Hermione didn't contemplate her luck though, and pulled hard on the knob on the broom cupboard, where it fell on its hinges loosely. It cracked open, but Hermione only met darkness.

She gasped, her hand covering her mouth. Harry was gone.

He definitely hadn't rotted away by a corpse, he wasn't _dead_, but he hadn't been fed lately – something had definitely happened.

Her head spinning, Hermione simply fastened the black cloak securely around her shoulders and closed the portrait hole behind her hurriedly.

She ran out of the oak doors, passing the Great Hall, where everything was cleaned up from the five o'clock dinner.

Hermione soon was running, slipping, and staggering out on the sloping and damp lawns. Everything was pitch dark, the moon illuminating everything horribly. Her cloak was billowing behind her, but her figure was only a shadow, which blended in well.

She had to fight through more than a forest of bushes, as it seemed, her skirt full of thorns and leaves. There was a bleeding cut on her forehead.

Hermione could see light coming through the upcoming bush and gasped in relief, when she heard a rustling in front of her.

Out of instinct, she turned a round first, and then edged forward, peering through the dark leaves. Two dark figures were seen – whispering in hisses. Hermione's first instinct was to sneak backwards like she saw nothing, but then she heard Tom's voice and she stopped dead. She wanted to burst through the leaves and attack him, or Stun whoever he was talking to. Something burned in her throat.

"I have it, master…" The man murmured faintly, handing out a dark turquoise bottle. The small vial glistened eerily in the darkness. It looked familiar – very familiar – should she dare and leave the bush?

She rustled out of the bushes, forgetting her sense in a blindness of running away and helping Tom, and attempted to smash the bottle to the floor. Tom swiftly stepped into the way, almost prepared like.

"What are you doing here?" He asked harshly. Hermione's face promptly started trickling with sweat – this wasn't an act of heroism – and why did she try and save him?

"That's poison." She announced weakly and bluntly, trying to get the point across quickly, managing to sound dramatic. Hermione lunged sharply and managed to pull the bottle out of the aghast-looking man's hands.

"That's irreplaceable!" He shouted furiously, pouncing forward as Hermione uncorked it and stepped away.

"You bet it is – this is 1st class dragon poison illegal to trade!" She said smartly, shaking the bottle under Tom's nose. "I'm seeing Professor Dippet." Hermione finished satisfyingly, stalking off with the bottle.

"_Impedimenta!_" The man shouted, clearly afraid, and Hermione fell over with the vial smashing to the grass by her; breaking, the liquid turning a deadly acid green as it made contact and oozed into the damp grass. The grass dispersed immediately.

Tom, looking curiously at the bottle, empty, except for a few shards trickling down the side of a shard. He picked it up and the drops dripped onto his hand, Hermione squeaking desperately below. "No…" She moaned silently.

"This is horntail poison…" Tom mumbled, fingering the gewy and clear liquid on his hand, staring fixedly at the man beside him terrified and almost shaking, horrorstruck.

"Go. Leave. Now." He commanded, fury growing in his eyes. "Get away from here, I don't _ever_ want to see you again!" Tom roared, throwing the glass shards onto the floor and whipping out his wand, bellowing a curse.

"_Expelliarmus!_" And with the wand flying behind him, his cloak billowing madly as well, the man ran into the castle for his life.

"_Scourgify._" Tom mumbled, cleaning his hands. He turned to Hermione impassively. "Are you alright?" He asked, helping her to her feet as the spell wore off slowly.

"Yes… Are – are you?" She asked shakily. She had been foolish. Getting herself involved in dragon poison, some sort of bargaining affair, and now she couldn't runaway.

Tom's eyes flashed. "You think I can't take care of myself? You think I would have drunken that?" He said sharply, pointing toward the shards on the dirt, now resting on a permanently brown spot.

"What? I know you – you can take care of yourself!" Hermione said nervously.

"Apparently you didn't." He finished coldly, stalking off toward the castle impatiently.

_AN_: Oh, now I'm not getting reviews anymore again!! Problems with fanfic are so confusing, but that's fine. It'll come back… Okay. So this story will soon come to a close. A few more chapters. Yes. Sniff, sniff, the sad part is coming up. So I've included the song 'Runaway' from Groove Coverage – let them grow famous – and I'm also including a reviewer file again.

_Reviewer File_:

_Julia_: No use putting your screenname, is there? Especially when your name is your screenname anyway! So, continuing from that, thanks for reviewing… As always. You rock. :D Looking forward to your Temptation update.

_MiKaYGiRl_: Yes, but sadly, the FUN is over. Hehe. :D Keep on reviewing!

_Mrs Pierre Bouvier_: Yes, you can't deny it, reviews are GOLDEN! And I hope this chapter is intense and long, and MUCH more then the last one. :D

_Tom Riddle's reluctant bride_: Yeah, I guess that would have worked but it doesn't fit with Tom's personality. I mean, she is muggleborn and he's SO independent. Having someone work with him would put him into a much less powerful position, and Tom's all about power. Thanks for the review, though!

_Lily_: I absolutely LOVE your name, HelplessRomantic, it's so… COOL! And thanks, the suspense of the fact that. She. Is. Staying. Is so wonderful!! And now she's running away. Haha. Almost as bad as SLID, hmm??

_Gueneviere_: Yes, but she's certainly not going to get any richer!! Lol. :D

_I want to know the structure of your heart  
Why do you tear my broken soul apart?  
Is it a dream?  
Or my reality?  
Love comes without after warranty  
I want to runaway  
You told me nothing else but lies  
I'm singing  
I try to runaway  
Cause I just want to live my life  
I'm singing  
I want to runaway  
As long as you are by my side  
I'm singing_  
_I try to runaway  
But I can't find a place to hide_  
_No, I am not you're second choice  
No, I am not_  
_Turning down my voice  
Until you understand  
There's nothing to command  
Until you realize  
That we can touch the skies  
Can you feel?  
It's out of control  
Can you feel?  
There's nothing at all  
I want to runaway  
You told me nothing else but lies  
I'm singing  
I try to runaway  
Cause I just want to live my life  
I'm singing  
I want to runaway  
As long as you are by my side  
I'm singing  
I try to runaway  
But I can't find a place to hide_


	20. When Dreams End

_Disclaimer_: I do not own Harry Potter.

_It was a cold night, with an icy breeze chilling Hermione. The dead flowers were eerily swaying in the wind, and the moon was casting sinister shadows everywhere. The sound of footsteps all over on the firm dirt scared her a bit, as more shadowy figures past her, as though she was invisible._

_There was a wooden carriage in front of her, hidden slightly in the darkness. The leaves were disguised it fairly well as the trees were positioned right in front of it, but she could hear the squeaking of wooden wheels._

"_What is going on?" She asked the next figure who passed her._

"_Quiet!" It hissed back, and kept on walking forward._

_Slightly anxious now, Hermione turned around to watch all of the black figures board the carriage, which was creaking so much Hermione thought it would break as the wood boards literally bent._

_Then, a shock and help to her, a pale figure rustled out of the trees, where his skin was whiter than the moonlight casting upon them. She was happy to see him, though._

"Tom_." She whispered quietly, and walked forward gently, slowly, on the dirt toward him. He was smirking in the light, looking at all of his passengers, and not casting a glance at Hermione. She smiled, laughed, and looked forward, straight into his dark eyes –_

_She gasped, to discover that they were red._

"_Tom!" She exclaimed, the smile off of her face._

_He gave her one look, of such loathing and lowness, as though she was a useless piece of garbage, and shut the carriage door as all of the shadowy figures had boarded it. He walked to the back where there was a wooden platform attached to the carriage, and climbed upon it, where he watched all the shadowy figures. The carriage creaked tremendously, and shuddered before the wheels started to eerily churn. _

_He looked at her again, unemotionally, and Hermione felt an urge of desperateness. She walked forward and tried to hop onto the back platform where Tom was, but he leaned down and smacked her hand away._

"_No." He said coldly, and stood up again. His wand was out, and he tapped the side of the carriage. The wheels stopped moving – even though they weren't actually moving the carriage, they were just grinding into the dirt ground. Instead, the carriage slowly started moving into the depths of the forest._

_Hermione's eyes widened and she screamed – "NO!" She yelled, as the carriage moved slightly faster. Tom looked at her indifferently._

"_You don't belong here." He said._

"_But I _love_ you!" She screamed helplessly, tears starting to tear down her face._

_Tom just laughed, loudly and inhumanly._

Hermione woke up two minutes later in tears and sweat, crying aloud in her couch, rolling profusely.

A light was on upstairs immediately, and Hermione stopped screaming instantly. She breathed heavily, and carefully buried herself in the depths of the pillows. Someone was coming downstairs with a candle.

They left again after barely looking about the common room and Hermione sighed.

This was how things were going to end.

_AN_: Is this story dead? No, it's not. But honestly, where are all the people who used to review? Where did everyone go, who used to be so dedicated to the chapters? I won't end this story, I'll keep on updating, and I'll update even faster if some of those people who used to review will review again, or maybe some new people. Just tell me what you think!! I know that this is a short chapter, but the only thing I wanted to bring across was the dream. So, there!


	21. Darkness in Light and Light in Darkness

Hermione hated dreams.

They only gave her thoughts that she would wish about and that would never come true. And they would only tempt her brain.

Tom used to say the same thing. And he was right.

Sure he had turned her thoughts negative and slightly pessimistic. But she was in such an incongruous position that it didn't matter to her anymore. If she would turn evil, she would _not_ bow in front of Lord Voldemort's presence.

Hermione would _not_ turn evil.

Tom hadn't been a good thing for her. She had been a good thing for her. Tom was a darkness in her light, but for Tom she was the light in his darkness. And she knew that Tom needed light.

She cried the entire day after the little 'incident' Tom and her had had. The dream was being to put in perceptive that they weren't meant for each other and that things would turn out unhappily. In cases like this, evil and good don't mix. Perhaps the dream had given her more of a sense of that things never end happily when you play with such dangerous things. Playing with snakes.

He would leave her just like he had never cared.

"_But I _love _you!"_

_Tom just laughed, loudly and inhumanly. _

He had laughed. He had laughed at her weakness and her clinginess to such evil. And yet she still loved him.

She wondered if she had changed history at all. Would years later, Tom even _remember_ her? Would her influence make a difference in how he saw evil and good and how _wrong_ it was to interfere with peace?

Of course he wouldn't. Hermione sniffed.

She hadn't seen him since last night. Which wasn't exactly a long amount of time, but for Hermione it felt like forever. She hadn't had a meal from him since yesterday evening, but she felt almost starved. She was curled up on her couch – no longer his bed – and hidden discreetly in the pillows.

Sniffing bureaucratically in one of the silky pillows, her eyes puffy, she heard a knock on the door. Whispering was followed behind the door, rasp and hoarse, and it sounded nothing like Tom. Contemplating that he might be with someone, she buried herself more into the couch, when the door blasted open and one of the nails to a hinge rolled around cantankerously on the floor.

Two, no three – four people in cloaks strode into the room swiftly, they're wands pointing out from their sleeves and their voices loud yet malicious.

"Where's the Lord?" One of them hissed.

"Most probably not here, unless he's with the mudblood somewhere."

Hermione shrunk farther into the pillows, realizing that the four soon-to-be-Death-Eaters were prowling around the room and most certainly looking for something.

One of them exploded the trunk Tom had kept his spare books kept in, scouring it closely.

"Well then where's the mudblood?"

The other boy narrowed his dark eyes, a dark shadow cast on his face from his hood. "Either she's gone to Dippet or somewhere in the common room."

When had Tom told even _told_ all of his friends about Hermione? That was ridiculous, sending them in here to _look_ for her and possibly more. Looks like reattempting her running away that evening was out of the question.

"Then why you just standing here?!" The main one barked, shouting at the three motionless Slytherins around him. "_Look!_"

Hermione had been afraid of that. Closing her eyes tightly, pretending to be asleep, she felt footsteps coming nearer to the couch. The floorboards creaked next to her. _No no no no no_.

"Avery. _Avery_," A harsh female voice spat, motioning somewhere over impatiently. "_Avery!_ I've found her."

She couldn't pretend to be asleep anymore, not when she was about to be rather roughly accosted by a bunch of Slytherins who only listened to Tom's command. But _why_ in Merlin's beard would Tom be sending such commands? Perhaps to kill Hermione? She was reminded faintly of her fourth year, when Bertha Jorkins disappeared mysteriously since Tom had used her for information… and then killed her.

She had known too much.

And now Hermione did too. Tom had even admitted it.

Waiting for the next set of footsteps appearing, she sprang up from the couch, using the Muggle style of fighting of simply fists-meet-face.

But that didn't get her very far. The female voice shrieked in surprise and fumbled for her wand, immobilizing Hermione immediately. The male one laughed. It was cold, but not as cruel as Tom's laugh.

Dragging her out with snickers, the four of them led her outside, wet dew among the grass. She felt herself being pushed up against a wall, before –

"Alright now." The female voice muttered, and unimmobilized Hermione.

She gasped for breath to regain her strength, but the Death Eaters had cornered her. She could even recognize some of the faces from the future… the Department Of Mysteries… that was –

"Avery!" She barked, as Hermione's eyes widened. "Get your wand out, will you!"

The still tied Hermione's hands and feet together, before pressing her against the greenhouse wall and smiling wickedly.

She struggled against her bonds instantly.

"Where's Tom? What did you do to him?" She spat out vigorously, her face livid. The four of them laughed in mirth as she fumed at them, doubting the fact that she actually had a chance at fighting them.

"_Where's Tommy, Avery? Where is he? What's happened?_" The other female one mocked – ridiculing, more or less, doubling over in cruel laughter.

"We call him the Lord," One of them said in a deep voice. "And soon you will call him that too."

"No… what's going on?" She muttered desperately, wishing for her actually to be where she was a night ago, safe in her own abyss of horrible nightmares instead of actually being in one.

She had talked enough. Hermione's shoes picked up tumbles of firm mud being ripped from the ground as they dragged her through it, until finally there was a dark figure in the back.

It looked horribly like her dream. She would have looked around for a wagon, and perhaps more Death Eaters, but it seemed as though the tendons in her neck had broken. Staying still and swallowing down her own tears (as she figured that struggling back would just bring her pain), even though in _this_ world, pain had been all she'd ever felt.

And pain doesn't hurt when it's all you've ever felt.

The shadowy figure in the background was gently coming into view. She was propped up in the arms of the other male Death Eater, her knees weak and the tears welled up all around her eyes.

Tom looked at all of them impassively, his head moving along the crowd. The sky was entirely dark, only a tender starlight had been splayed across of them and the wet grass beneath their thudding footsteps.

Hermione looked up at his face, emotionless and blank (somewhat unreadable and unidentifiable) that couldn't be explained away just like an empty page, yet actually shining with tears that didn't fall. Hermione had never seen Tom cry, and actually gasped out loud. The angle from which she was seeing him had a ray of moonlight straight on his face, which illuminated all of his features, dark and wicked.

Her breath was no longer in her throat, it was somewhere along with her voice… but not here… all the people around her, beaming manic grins, were shadowed in the moonlight of shelter-like-trees. The person that had bound her hands together was laughing as Tom's tears seemed to vanish as he blinked down at her pathetic and helpless form and he smiled at her roped-together form. He took out his wand and let go of Hermione's footropes.

"Let go of her." He commanded softly and silently. The man stopped laughing, his grip on Hermione's wrist slightly tighter.

Hermione gasped, her eyes wide and glowing in tears, as Tom's words echoed in her brain.

"What?" The man asked incredulously. "But – no – my Lord… she is a mudblood!"

"Let go of her, Avery," He warned again. "Or I will make you." The warning was still interlaced with a hint of a wicked and evil smile, but it was so low that it was still dangerously coming out of Tom's lips.

Avery wiped his forehead but kept a firm grip of rough hands on her ropes, as though letting go of a mudblood would be a waist of… _catching_. Like when you hunted down a turkey.

Hermione couldn't bring herself to laugh as her face stayed fixated on Tom's face.

"Cruc–" He started fiercely, but Hermione gasped and shouted "No!" despite the fact that this man was holding her captive. Tom lowered his wand, looking at Hermione as though she had just appeared.

"Avery, nobody says no to an order from me. _Stupefy!_" Avery keeled over as the red flash of light hit him squarely in the chest. Tom's wand was still shaking in his hands.

"Carry all of it out." He ordered quietly, and the crowd of people hurried away.

"Now," Tom said urgently. "You are not safe here. They will not appreciate you. It's dangerous. Now go – go back to 1997 before you're hurt."

Hermione couldn't believe was she was hearing. Looking over, Death Eaters were still carrying out ingredients… the big potion that he was planning on making.

But she didn't think about that, when the words, caught in between his lips and traveling over to hers, started with a _go back_ and ended in _to 1997_, when her heart seemed to explode. This was how he was ending things. He was letting her live but still breaking her heart.

He didn't love her.

"How?" She asked disbelievingly, tears of fear, the thought of leaving, confusion, sadness, hurt, anger, and frustration welling up. This was the last time she was supposed to see his face?

"Go to the Room Of Requirement and wish to _be back_. Touch the hourglass that'll appear in the room. Go!" Hermione would not go, though, people were pouring out of the castle again, carrying dark objects.

"I can't leave."

"Yes, you have to!" Tom repeated, more urgently.

"You're not a dark wizard, Tom, you told me so many times you were… and it's not true," She whispered, tears glistening in the light and letting go at her own words. They suddenly began streaming but she didn't wipe them away.

"But I _am_!" He said, more like he was convincing himself than Hermione. Biting on his lip to keep from crying, he laced one his hands with Hermione's. "That's why I kept secrets from you. And I lied to you. And I brewed an immortality potion behind your back."

Hermione was shaking her head all the while, barely even taking in the words of Tom saying that he was creating an immortality potion all this time when he sneaked out in the snow at five in the morning and when Hermione even left the common room to read up on the potion ingredients… it was all flying by her head.

"No, Tom, you're not persuading anyone."

Tom kept on going though. "No! _No_, Hermione… I have to… They depend on my greatness," He said desperately, motioning toward the followers dragging out the sinister and eerie objects.

Suddenly she felt a pang of jealousy. "Since when have you been so considerate about other people's feelings?" She shouted angrily, Tom opening his mouth to argue, but Hermione stopped him. "When you were about to torture Avery!"

"I have my reasons." Tom said shortly.

"And so does the heart!" She bellowed frustratingly, tears falling off her lashes and cheeks. She softened. "I… are you really going to throw all this away? I love you, Tom." She smiled weakly at him.

Tom looked down and bit his lip hard. "I have to do this," He whispered back, reaching out and releasing their linked hands. "I'm sorry…" He whispered gently, stroking her cheek tenderly with barely his fingertips in a simple brush.

Hermione stood up, straightening her back, and letting his hand fall off limply.

"You're not," She said stonily. "Otherwise you wouldn't be doing this." She whimpered, staring into his eyes coldly. Tears were now gushing out of her eyes and she watched him melt slowly.

"Don't do this… don't make it harder than it already is…" He pleaded.

"I will!" Hermione screamed. "I don't care! You don't care! About me! About them!" Hermione shouted viciously, motioning toward the shadowy helpers lugging things out. "And so," She said in a quiet voice, looking down. "I don't care about you. Goodbye, Tom."

She started walking away without any further goodbyes, the tears stopping suddenly as walking away starting feeling so right, _so actually easy_, so not evil for once in this dreary mist of wickedness. She didn't want to be here anymore. She wanted to go, never to have to see Tom or his menacing friends ever again. She covered her nose as the coldness of the castle settled in her, her skin shivering.

Tears started pouring again as people stared, tears staining her white Hogwarts blouses with salty tears. Hermione streaked past the students – she didn't want to be stopped.

Hermione slid behind the tapestry for the Room Of Requirement, her hands clenching her wand in one pocket, and gripping fabric in the other.

"Please, oh please – I want to be back," She wished desperately, her hands fists, but the churning of nails didn't feel her ears. Her tightly shut eyes snapped open and hut the wall. She couldn't leave without the hourglass. She knocked on the wall, her arm trembling – no, her entire body shaking – but nothing happened.

"I don't want to see Tom anymore… this has been awful for me… please, _please_… I don't love him anymore."

Nothing happened.

"I _don't_ love him, I don't, I don't… please open…" She said, but again, the wall remained solid. Tom, or maybe the Death Eaters, might find her soon.

She sighed. "I _love_ him. I _love_ Tom, but I can't stay here. It's not for me, it's _not my place_…" She said, and in her surprise, the churning filled her ears entirely, the nails moving against rust and the metal wall protruding a door of chrome…

Hermione sharply gasped, but hurried into the room, where…

A simple, shining, hourglass was lying in the middle of the blank room.

Her fingertips were millimeters away from the glass, when –

The door hurtled open, Hermione gasping once again as her hand jerked away from the hourglass. Who knew what she was doing here exactly? Maybe Tom had told someone of his friends… before she could ponder further; she saw the dear figure of Tom bursting in, slightly breathless and panting. Several scratches were scarring his face with bleeding freely, his robe gone and his shirt somewhat dirty.

His hand shot forward immediately, and Hermione was surprised to see a deep gash on his palm.

"I… I can't leave you – I–" He stopped himself, sighing. "I… I love you." He mumbled, ducking his head down and wordlessly reached out to grab Hermione's hand. "I want to come with you," He stated with finality. "…p-please?" He raised his head.

Hermione's eyes widened as her face set a glance on Tom's. His eyes actually pleading and his entire face looking as though the world would end just if Hermione would say no. She sniffed hastily with her free hand. Yes, she did want him to come. He'd make a difference. There would be consequences, yes, there would, but…

She loved him.

But he'd be destroying the future. His followers, still on the prowl in the future, egged on by Tom's attitude, would start their own dark world. Hermione shuddered. She'd be in more danger than Harry…

Harry.

What would he say? After being obliviated, and – and his lifelong desire to kill the person next to her – vice versa – would Tom still want to kill Harry? What about his goal of wealth and power? He might be able to leave his 'friends' because he never really felt connected to a person – but what about her? Was this just a clever plan to get to Harry? That's what he wanted in the beginning… was she being used? That had been the original problem.

"I can't." She murmured, and Tom held her other hand instantly.

"Why?" He said fearfully.

"You have a life, you have followers, you… you don't need me. Lord Voldemort does better without me." She said quietly.

And then Tom, cupping her face, so their eyes met in a lock of seriousness, he said very clearly:

"I don't want to be Lord Voldemort."

She smiled suddenly, closing her eyes in oblivion, before kissing his forehead gently. "Then come with me."

He beamed, teeth and all.

"Just promise me something." Hermione said.

Tom nodded.

"Don't leave me."

"I don't want to." And the world swam before them, their fingers touching the glass of the smooth hourglass without any more thoughts. Nothing mattered anymore – he was here, and now she could do anything…

_AN_: O.O OMG, YAY!! Oh, how I've missed all of you guys sooo much! HONESTLY. It's been forever, and I swear, it's been nagging me at the back of the mind forever. I'm still writing though, and roleplaying too. I positively CAN'T wait to see all of you familiar faces… er… words, I guess? Well, I hope that the people who read T/Hr haven't changed that much… I missed all of you guys, especially the regulars. Like, let me thank:

_Mrs Pierre Bouvier_: I just… AH. It's been. So. Bloody. Long. I can't believe it. Your reviews would still be greatly appreciated. :D

_MiKaYGiRl_: HAHA I still know your name!! Don't have to check!!!

_Tom Riddle's Reluctant Bride_: Oh, all of you guys are so lovely. Especially the regulars, like you. It kept this story going… and now it's back. Like, four months later. XD

_Julia_: I've stayed in touch with you. Thank god. But still, AHH. It's back. I know you'll be excited!!

_Lily_: OMG angst. I know you'll love it. :D

And for anyone else that didn't review chapter after chapter, but still reviewed a lot and I greatly appreciated their encouragement: _Betrayed Innocence_, _LNluvsHostile17_, _Gueneviere_, and _Heatherness2134_. THANKS SO MUCH, I SWEAR.

If you're not mentioned, I'm terribly sorry… but it's about… like… LATE, just, and I'm TIRED. Review, please.

JUST TO SAY, THERE'S ONE MORE CHAPPIE AHEAD. JUST ONE MORE, THEN IT'S OVER. _SOB SOB_. REVIEW, PLEASE.


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